


Faraway

by lyrawinter



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Consensual Sex, F/M, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Modern Westeros, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2020-02-10 19:18:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 23,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18666724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrawinter/pseuds/lyrawinter
Summary: Petyr/Sansa. Modern AU.SLOW UPDATES





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write this fic since last year but I had never dared until now. Like my previous fic (Night) this story isn't beta-ed. English isn't my first language, so apologies for any mistakes. 
> 
> I want to thank petyrbaealish for being always so supportive and for helping me improve my English. I also want to thank everyone who has left comments/kudos on my previous fics, and/or has bookmarked any of them. It means so much :-)
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story! :-)

King’s Landing University. Department of Classical Studies. 10:00 PM

The corridors were empty. Sansa blinked. The fluorescent lights were too bright.

White. Everything around her was white. The walls. The roof. The floor tiles. Why was everything so white? 

The ground rippled beneath her feet. She leaned against the wall and shut her eyes. Why was the world rocking? She needed something to hold onto, but there was nothing there. Only walls and floor tiles and fluorescent lights. _It’s a shame I cannot climb the wall and hold onto a fluorescent light._ The thought didn’t seem strange to her. Everything felt unreal. 

She rested her hand against the wall by instinct. She needed to touch something solid, something firm. She needed to regain her sense of reality.

Wait. Something wasn’t right. Sansa knitted her brow, trying to figure out what was wrong. Something about the wall… Something about her hand… Gods. Why she couldn’t make the connection? Her mind felt like wrapped in mist. _Think_ , she told herself. But it was so hard. She wanted to lie on the floor and sleep.

 _Don’t._ Something inside her rebelled at the idea.

_Think._

The wall…

Her hand…

Her hand touching the wall…

_Think. Think. Think._

_The texture._ That was the issue. She couldn’t feel it. She couldn’t perceive if it was smooth or rough or grainy.

What was happening?

 _Move_ , her instinct told her. She needed to get out of there. She needed help.

Her body felt so heavy as she walked along the corridor. Luckily, she was on the ground floor. She wasn’t certain whether she’d have been able to go down the stairs in her current state.

Exit. Sansa breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the sign above the door. Just a few steps left. She could do it.

She didn’t know how she gathered the strength to push the door open. Her body seemed to have taken the control. Her mind was still trying to understand the situation.

She didn’t react when the air brushed her face. She wasn’t cold even though she was wearing her coat unbuttoned. The street lighting was dim and the trees and the dumpsters casted odd shadows.

Sansa blinked when the street lamps began to swirl. _Focus._ She narrowed her eyes and looked around. The area seemed deserted, but she didn’t despair. The department of Economics was a 5-minute walk from there. Since this was one of the departments with the highest enrollment, chances were she would find someone there.

_Move._

The pavement looked like a dark sea. _It’s pretty_ , Sansa thought. _A sea of cement and cobblestones_. Her fingers could almost brush it. Her body was leaning forward as she walked. 

The sound of a car in the distance made her raise her face. Soon she saw the headlights. The car was coming towards her. Finally, she had found someone, or rather, someone had found her. 

The car stopped on her left. It was black. Sansa noticed there was a figurine hanging on the inside rearview mirror, but she couldn’t distinguish its shape. When the driver opened the door, the lights turned on, and she saw it was a metal bird. It was still swinging. Sansa smiled. _A bird hanging in the air. So pretty._

The man got out of the car. He was dressed in a suit and tie. _He must be a professor_ , Sansa thought. She lifted her eyes. He had grey temples and green eyes. Her breath hitched. _I know you._

“Good night, miss. Do you need some help?”

“Hi.” Her voice sounded groggy. Sansa swallowed. Her brain felt so slow. The man was looking at her and even though he looked serene, Sansa noticed a flicker of worry in his eyes. _Focus_. “Ah, yes. Yes, I think I… I need some help.”

“Alright.” He raised his hands in a soothing manner. “Alright,” he repeated. “I am Petyr Baelish, I work as a professor at the Department of Economics. You are safe with me, I promise you.”

“Okay.” Sansa just wanted to close her eyes and let the mist in her mind take the control over her.

“What’s your name?” Petyr’s voice brought her back to reality. His voice was like a torch in the darkness.

“Sansa.”

“Alright, Sansa. Tell me. Do you remember how you came here?” 

“Yes. No. I mean… I remember leaving the Department of Classical Studies, but I don’t know how I got there.”

“Alright. Don’t worry. You’ll be alright. I’ll take you to a safe place and someone will examine you.” He touched her arm carefully as if fearing she would flinch. But she didn’t show any emotion. “Sansa?”

His voice was so pleasant. His students were lucky. She wouldn’t mind listening to him for hours. 

“Sansa?” He squeezed her arm. “Sansa, look at me.”

Oh, yes. She would love to do so. He was very handsome, and perhaps if she stared at him long enough, she would find out where she had seen him before, for Sansa was certain she’d seen him before.

“Sansa.” He lifted her chin gently, and his eyes met hers. Those eyes… Sansa felt as if he were staring into her soul. Suddenly, she felt regret. But why? Those eyes were stirring something inside her. I’m sorry, she wanted to say. But why? Why? She couldn't hold his gaze any longer. She stepped back, and her coat fluttered.

Sansa noticed the sudden change in his expression. Petyr had turned pale, and his eyes showed distress. He moved closer to her again, and this time, she remained still. His expression… It wasn’t the first time she saw the anguish in his eyes. _You must remember._

Gently, he pulled away one side of her coat. 

“Sansa, you’re bleeding.”

“What?” She looked down at her belly. It was true. There was a red stain on her pullover and the waistline of her pants. “Oh.”

Something clicked in her mind. She remembered where she’d seen him. 

“I saw you in my dreams.”

Petyr knitted his brows.

“What?”

She opened her mouth to answer his question, but her legs faltered.

“Hey, hey.” Petyr grabbed her waist before she fell. He held her against his body. Sansa noticed a faint scent of mint. “Stay with me, sweetling. You’re going to get well.”

That was the last thing she heard. Afterwards, the darkness surrounded her.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

**Petyr**

_Fuck._

What had happened? Who had hurt her? Why? Had the attack been premeditated? There were many questions, and Petyr was willing to find the answers. But not now. Now it was imperative to stop the hemorrhage. 

He had bandages in the glove compartment. Hopefully they would help slow down the bleeding. He hadn’t located the wound yet, but he was going to. He just needed to make a call first.

He picked her up with a grunt. Her head fell back, and no sound escaped from her throat. Petyr almost wished she were fighting back. This would mean she was conscious. 

He would talk to her during the whole trip, he decided. Even if she showed no signs of being listening to him, her brain could react to the sound of his voice. 

He placed her in the front seat and noticed her breathing was weak. _Come on. Don’t give up._ He took out his phone and picked a number from his contact list. Aemon.

Aemon was one of the best doctors in the city, and he leaded an exceptional surgical team. However, you wouldn’t find their names in any directory for none of them had ever worked in a hospital or a clinic. Officially, they weren’t health professionals. Extra-oficially, they were specialized in emergency medicine.

Aemon owned several houses in the city: in the north, in the south, in the west and in the east. All of them had sterilized operating rooms. One just had to phone Aemon and gave him their location, and he would arrange a meeting in the nearest place. His team could coordinate in record time, and they knew better than to ask any questions or inform on their patients. The authorities could never find out what happened in those houses. Discretion was greatly valued among those who didn’t want to draw attention to themselves. 

“Come on. Pick up the fucking phone.” Petyr gritted his teeth. He turned to Sansa and pushed aside her coat. Was the stain bigger now or it was his imagination? _Damn._ He grabbed a bottle of water from the glove compartment and moistened his handkerchief. He needed to see where she had the wound. He lifted up her pullover and started wiping her belly.

If Aemon didn’t answer the phone before he’d finished putting the bandage, all hell broke loose, he swore it.

It wasn’t long before Petyr found the wound. It was on the lower right are of the abdomen. The cut seemed small, but this didn't mean it hadn't caused internal injures.

“Hello?” Aemon’s voice sounded from the other side.

 _Finally._ Petyr let out his breath. He didn’t bother to greet him.

“I have an emergency. There’s a girl bleeding from her abdomen. I don’t know what happened,” he said as he pulled Sansa closer to wrap the bandage around her waist. 

“Okay. Where are you?”

“At the University. I’m bandaging the wound. As soon as I finish, I’ll start the car.” 

“Alright. I’m sending you the coordinates.” 

His phone vibrated just as the doctor finished speaking. Petyr glanced down at the screen.

“I've got them.”

“Is she conscious?” Aemon asked.

“No.” Petyr growled. He didn’t want to think about the reasons why she had lost consciousness. He tied the bandage and gently pulled her back again, with her nape resting on the headrest. “You’re going to get well”, he murmured fastening her belt. Sansa didn’t move. Her face was very pale. Petyr suppressed the urge to caress her cheek. He swallowed to get rid of the lump in his throat. “Okay. I’ve just finished. I’m heading off.”

“Alright. Everything will be ready by the time you come.” 

“Perfect. See you in ten minutes.” _Or sooner._

“Please, be careful.” Aemon’s voice sounded concerned. 

“Don’t worry. I won’t draw any attention.” He knew how to slip by unseen. He wasn’t a novice. No policeman would follow him.

“I was thinking of your safety,” the doctor explained. “Please, don’t drive too fast.”

What? Petyr didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected Aemon to care about him. _Nonsense. He’s probably worried about her. That’s all._

“I'm going to hang up now,” Petyr said quickly. He didn’t add that he would be talking to Sansa until they reached their destination. He didn’t want to sound ridiculous. 

“Alright. Be safe. Both of you”

*

The house was at the end of a street. Behind the house there was a greenfield land. Petyr could hear the crickets chirping.

As soon as he stopped the car, the entry door opened. Petyr sighed, and the tightness in his throat loosen a little. Aemon had never disappointed him.

No one left the house, but that was expected. Petyr took Sansa out of the car and carried her until the doorstep. Aemon was in the hall, accompanied by other members of his team. 

“Lay her down,” Aemon said motioning to the stretcher.

Petyr obeyed. Some locks of hair slid down over her face. He brushed them away, his gaze fixed on her closed eyes. _Keep fighting._

Aemon’s voice startled him.

“Okay. Let’s go!”

The two stretcher-bearers started pulling the stretcher along the corridor. Aemon gave some instructions to his team as they walked. Petyr followed them, looking at the ground. Aemon spoke and spoke, but Petyr wasn't able to understand what he was saying. His words felt like background noise.

He jumped when the doctor touched his shoulder. Petyr raised his face and saw they had stopped in front of the operating room.

“Wait here, please,” Aemon told him.

Petyr nodded. _Save her_ , he wanted to say, but his throat felt dry. The doctor closed the door behind him, and Petyr was left alone.

*

He was wandering along the corridor. From time to time, he glanced at the door, in hopes it opened suddenly. _Damn._ Why he couldn’t relax? 

He still couldn’t believe what had happened. He had just finished his workday and was on his way home when he’d seen her walking down the street alone. Soon Petyr had known that something was wrong. Sansa was walking hunched, and her movements were unsteady. Several possibilities had crossed his mind each one more terrible than the previous, but he’d obliged himself to stay calm. He’d gotten out of the car and talked with her in a quiet voice. Petyr had tried not to frighten her, but when he’d noticed that she was bleeding, he hadn’t been able to maintain his composure any longer.

“Mr. Baelish.” Aemon’s voice sounded behind him.

Petyr hurried to turn around. The doctor was next to the door. Petyr tried to read him, but his expression was inscrutable. _Damn._

“How is she?” Petyr asked approaching him.

“She’s stable. Luckily there are no internal injuries. Everything points out that the cut was caused by a sharp object.”

“So she’ll recover.”

“We have reasons to be optimistic,” Aemon replied.

Petyr let out his breath and ran his hand through his hair.

The doctor looked at him with curiosity.

“Do you know her?”

“No,” Petyr answered right away. “She told me she remembered leaving the Department of Classical Studies, so she probably studies there.”

Aemon sighed.

“Then we’ll have to wait until she wakes up so she can tell us if we have to contact any relatives or friends.”

“Yeah,” Petyr said. “It seems so.”

Aemon touched his arm.

“Go home. We’ll take care of her. I’ll phone you in the morning to inform you about her state.”

“Alright. Spare no expense and send me the bills.”

Aemon’s eyes shone with kindness.

“Don’t worry about that now. Go.”

Petyr nodded and said goodbye to him. The doctor didn't escort him to the exit. Instead, he entered the operating room again. _Better this way,_ Petyr thought. _He must take care of her._

The crickets were still chirping when Petyr left the house. The temperature had dropped. He got in the car and turned up the heater. His eyes wandered across the greenfield. 

He thought of Cat.


	3. Chapter 2

**Petyr**

Petyr woke up an hour before his alarm went off. He sat in the bed and looked at the large window. Last night he’d forgotten to close the curtains. The sun hadn’t come up yet, and everything was quiet. 

Gods, he needed coffee.

He didn’t turn on the corridor lamps on his way to the bathroom. He’d been living there for over a decade and knew exactly where every corridor ended and where every piece of furniture was placed.

Petyr had bought the house some months after he became a professor. 800 square feet in one of the best neighborhoods. Only a 15-minute drive from the University. It hadn’t been easy to get ahead in life, but that made his success much sweeter.

Success meant something different to each person. Finding the love of your life. Having enough money not to work. Being famous. Being admired… To Petyr success meant not to be in a vulnerable position anymore. 

He stepped into the shower and let out a sigh when the warm water ran down his back. His shoulders felt so tight. Last night’s events had affected him more than he wanted to admit. He’d believed that Cat was part of his past, a past that he didn’t like to remember, though it was difficult to ignore what happened when you had a permanent reminder in your body.

His lips curved into a bitter smile as he traced his fingers along his scar. Twenty-five years had passed, but sometimes it felt like it happened yesterday. He didn’t remember the days after the incident. He’d been feverish, muttering incoherent things in a hospital bed. The cut had been so deep that he’d almost died. When he’d woken up, the doctors had called Hoster, Edmure and Catelyn, and they'd visited him in the hospital. They’d been his only family since his father died. 

That was the last time Petyr had seen them.

Twenty-five years had passed since he’d left Riverrun. Such a long time. Petyr had come to believe that he would never cross paths with any Stark member again, and he would be lying if he said he hadn’t found that thought reassuring. For twenty-five years, Petyr had wanted nothing to do with this family. However, last night he had bumped into Sansa Stark. Sometimes Petyr wondered if there was some supernatural force out there and if they had fun messing up with human lives. 

He had never seen Sansa before so technically he hadn’t lied Aemon when the doctor had asked him if he knew the girl. Technically. 

Petyr didn’t even know that Sansa was studying at the University, thought it made sense. There were no universities in Winterfell, and King’s Landing was one of the best in Westeros. Surely Ned and Catelyn wanted the best education for their children.

Petyr had watched pictures of them on Catelyn’s social networking four or five years ago. This had been the first and only time he’d visited her social networking. He regretted having done it, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him. 

He’d learned that the Starks owned a construction company. He’d barely had contact with Ned when he lived in Riverrun. He’d seen him a few times in the company of his brother Brandon. That was all. But Petyr remembered that Ned worked as a construction helper for different companies at that time and that he traveled to the towns and villages in a van. Ned must have moved up from there.

Petyr also remembered that Catelyn wanted to go to university, but apparently, she hadn’t done so. He wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t met the Starks. Would have she left Riverrun? Would have she gotten a degree? Petyr wasn’t naïve. He knew they would have never dated. Catelyn had never been in love with him. However, Petyr couldn’t help but wonder how different her life would have been if she'd never crossed paths with Brandon and Ned.

Catelyn had also posted some pictures of her when she was in her twenties. She appeared in different places of Riverrun. The old castle, the park, the forest, the public square. Petyr had spent hours looking at them.

The pictures had brought back some memories of his youth. The afternoons in the park, the games, the songs, the tales, the laughs, the innocence. Petyr couldn’t recognize himself in that boy. The prince of the fireflies. That was his nickname back then. The name Catelyn and Edmure used to call him during their children’s games. He had been a daydreamer. If only someone had told him that life wasn’t a song. 

Petyr had noticed the same daydreamy expression on Sansa’s face when he’d looked at the pictures that Catelyn had been posted of her over the years. He had never noticed it last night thought, but this wasn’t strange. She’d been in shock. She’d looked lost and confused. 

He’d seen her in person last night for the first time, and now he could say without doubt that the pictures paled in comparison. Sansa was more beautiful than ever. She was more beautiful than Cat.

Petyr stepped out of the shower. Aemon would phone him in a few hours. Hopefully he would have good news.

 

*

It looked like a normal day at the university. No one seemed to know that last night a girl had been injured. The incident seemed to have no effects. As he headed towards the student’s café to buy a large takeaway coffee, Petyr felt strange. How was it possible that nothing had changed?

As he made his way to the exit, Petyr saw that a group of female students were looking at him. Some of them smiled nervously when their eyes met his and one of them even blushed. Petyr turned his face, pretending not to notice. It wasn’t the first time that a student reacted this way when they looked at him. Some of them had even tried to go further, flirting with him in class or in his office, but he’d never flirted back. Many of them were pretty, but they weren’t interesting. Besides, he didn’t want to risk losing his job for having an affair.

He put his phone on vibrate when he entered the class at 8:30. He talked about investment banking and conducted a debate about this topic, but he was glancing at the screen every few minutes.

Once the class ended, he went to his office again. He’d just set his briefcase on his desk, when his phone rang.

He hurried to take it. His hands trembled slightly when he touched the accept call icon.

“Hello,” he said. _How is she?_ He’d wanted to say instead. 

“Hello, Mr. Baelish. This is Aemon. The girl had just woken up. She’s still disoriented but her evolution is favorable. Yesterday we took a blood sample from her and we have now the results.”

Petyr closed his eyes. He almost feared of asking. 

“And?” he said finally.

“The results are normal, and there are no traces of drugs in her blood. Besides, last night we examined her, and she has no other injures apart from the wound in her abdomen.”

Relief spread across Petyr’s chest. He let out his breath.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Baelish. I’ll phone you again if I have more news.”

“Thank you. I’ll visit her in the afternoon, when I leave the university.”

“Alright. I’ll see you then.”

“Bye.” Petyr hung up the phone, pensive. Sansa’s last words still echoed in his mind.

_I saw you in my dreams._

Why had she said that?


	4. Chapter 3

**Sansa**

Sansa felt as if she had a hot metal bar inside her abdomen. The pain woke her up. It hurt so much that she wanted to scream, but she could only gasp. The lights bothered her eyes. She blinked several times.

What was happening?

“Relax. You’re safe here,” a male voice said.

Here? Where? Who had just spoken? The pain was excruciating, and Sansa wanted it to stop. She rose her hands, trying to put them on her belly, but someone grabbed her wrists before she could do so. 

“Don’t,” the same voice told her. 

“But it hurts.” She almost sobbed. The sound of her own voice startled her. It had sounded so raspy that she didn’t recognize it. 

“I know. But you could hurt yourself. The sutures could come out accidentally and we don’t want that.” The voice said kindly.

Sutures? How had she gotten injured? When? Sansa turned her face to see who was talking to her. 

It was a man with white hair. He seemed to be over 70 years old, but he had a strong build. Next to him there was a vital signs monitor. Sansa looked at the wavy lines and the numbers, and it was then when she realized that she had several wires on her body. The monitor was showing her blood pressure, body temperature, pulse and breathing rate. The man smiled reassuringly and let go of her wrists.

“My name is Aemon, and I’m a doctor. You have nothing to worry about. We’re taking care of you.”

“We?” Sansa gripped the sheet, resisting the urge to put her hands on her belly.

“My team and I,” he explained. “We’re specialized in emergency medicine. You came here yesterday with a wound in your abdomen. We had to give you seven stitches, but apart from that, you don’t have any other injuries and your blood test results are normal. You should be able to leave in a few days unless you have a setback.” The man tilted his head, waiting for her to assimilate the information.

A wound. No wonder she was in pain. Sansa closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to ignore it, but it was hard. _You have to. You need to think clearly_ , she told herself. She was surrounded by strangers in a place she didn’t know. She needed to stay alert. Aemon could be lying or hiding some information. She couldn’t trust him, at least, for now. There was no evidence that he was saying the truth.

Sansa opened her eyes and held his gaze.

“What happened?” 

Aemon gave her a sad smile. 

“We expected you to be able to tell us,” he confessed. “What do you remember?”

Sansa turned her head and looked at the ceiling. Her memories were confusing. White lights. Corridors. Strange shadows. Black pavement. The ground rocking beneath her feet. Pictures and sensations intermingled in her mind. Sansa let out a gasp.

“It’s alright,” Aemon said. “Don’t exert yourself. You have been in shock. It’s normal if you cannot remember what happened. Give yourself some time. The memories will come back to you eventually”

Sansa shook her head.

“I can remember some things. I remember leaving the Department of Classical Studies and walking down the street. I… I wanted to go to the Department of Economics. I thought there would be someone there to help me.” The memory of black car flashed through her mind as she talked. A mockingbird hanging in the air. A man dressed in a suit. Green eyes. Grey temples. Her heart pounded faster. “There was a man,” she continued. “He… I think I had seen him before, but I cannot remember where. He said he was a professor and that I was safe with him. He told me his name. Petyr.”

Aemon nodded.

“He took you here. I’ve known him for a long time and I had never seen him so worried.”

What? Petyr had been worried about her? Sansa didn’t know how to feel about that.

Aemon added:

"I bet he'll want to visit you soon. I wouldn't be surprised if he appeared this afternoon.”

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard that. _Control yourself._ Petyr would probably want to check in on her before moving on with her life. _He’ll ask me how I’m doing, wish me a quick recovery and afterwards, he’ll leave, and we won’t see each other again._ The thought made her feel a pang of sadness. Come on. What was happening to her? Why did she care whether she saw him again?

“You haven’t told me your name yet.” Aemon’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

She swallowed and tried to smile.

“Sansa. My name is Sansa.”

The man smiled back and touched her left hand. She loosened her grip on the sheet.

“A pleasure to meet you, Sansa. Now I'm going to bring you some food. You need to regain your strength. Afterwards I'll give you something for the pain. Alright?”

She nodded. Aemon moved his hand away.

"You're a strong girl. You'll get well."

"Thank you."

"Would you like me to inform someone that you're here? Any relatives or friends?"

"No," she answered quickly.

Aemon didn't look surprised. He just nodded and turned away. Sansa saw him walk towards the door. Then she closed her eyes and fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 4

**Sansa**

Sansa woke up again when she heard the sound of wheels. She saw Aemon enter the room. He was pushing an overbed table with a bowl, an apple and a glass of water. How much time had passed since he left? What time was it? The room had no windows or clocks. How would it be to spend several days locked in that room with no one to trust? Sansa didn’t want to experience it. She preferred to continue her recovery at home even though this meant she’d be alone. Her roommate was spending a semester at the University of Dorne, and she wouldn’t go back until April. Sansa didn’t want to think about how she would manage to take care of herself in her current state. She didn’t have enough money to hire a nurse. She didn’t even have enough money to hire a cleaner, so she’d also have to do chores herself. 

_I’ll figure something out._

Aemon interrupted her thoughts:

“The food is ready. I hope you like chicken rice soup.”

Sansa was about to answer when she felt a stabbing pain in her abdomen. Her face contorted in a grimace. Aemon stopped next to her and touched her shoulder. 

“I’ll give you something for the pain as I promised. You just have to eat something first.”

Sansa wasn’t hungry but she nodded. Right now, she would do anything to relieve her pain. She tried to sit up but paused when his hand pressed down on her shoulder.

“Wait.” He took a remote control. A faint buzz sounded, and the head of the bed started rising slowly until Sansa was in a sitting position. “Better?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Of course, the mattress could be raised or lowered with a control remote. Her eyes wandered around the room. The place looked like an ER. She turned to Aemon again. “Am I in a hospital?” 

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Sort of.”

“What does it mean?”

“Well, we can say this is like a private hospital.”

“But it’s not a hospital.”

“Not in the strict sense,” he admitted. “But you have nothing to worry about. Only the best professionals work here, and this place is totally safe. No one will find you here if you don’t want.”

Sansa could read between the lines. Aemon believed that someone was behind the incident, that someone had attacked her. But who? Who hated her so much that they’d tried to kill her? Or had it been a stranger? Had she been in the wrong place at the wrong time?

She lowered her eyes and looked at her abdomen. Someone had put a nightgown on her. Sansa knew it was the common practice in these cases, but she couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. Someone had taken off her clothes while she was unconscious. She’d been totally defenseless. In fact, she was still defenseless. She wouldn’t be able to put up resistance if they tried something against her. She would even have trouble fighting Aemon if needed though he was an old man.

“Sansa, stop.” Aemon’s voice sounded kind but firm.

She lifted her face again, confused. Did he guess what she was thinking? She hoped not.

His eyes softened when they met hers.

“You’re thinking too much. I know it’s hard, but you should take things slowly. You’re safe here.” He placed the overbed table in front of her. “Eat. It will help you feel better.”

What another thing she could do? He was right: she needed to regain her strength. She sighed and grabbed the spoon.

*

Later Petyr went to visit her. Sansa was half asleep, but her heart started beating faster when she saw him. _He looks even more handsome than yesterday._ Her own thought caught her off guard. Why did she react like this? Any other man had made her feel this way before. It was as if an invisible force was drawing her towards him. It was a little scaring, but she had to admit that it was also exciting.

Petyr stopped beside the door and turned his head. Another man, dressed in a white coat, entered the room. _He must work here,_ Sansa thought. Until now she’d only seen Aemon, but many members of his team had probably been in the room while she was unconscious.

The man picked up a chair and placed it next to her bed. Then he nodded at Petyr and left the room.

They were alone. Sansa experienced a thrill. Petyr walked towards her in silence, and she didn’t avert her eyes from him. She wanted to ask him many things: Who are you? Why I have the feeling that I’ve seen you before?

Petyr sat in the chair, his eyes fixed on hers. His gaze was so intense.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she answered. It was true. Aemon had given her a pain pill after her meal, and the pain had lessened considerably.

“I’m glad.” He said softly. The corner of his mouth curved slightly. 

The silence fell over the room. He looked cautious, as if he didn’t know how to talk with her. Did he fear of saying the wrong thing? Had Aemon advised him to be careful with her?

“I want to thank you for saving my life,” she said.

He shook his head.

“I didn’t save your life, Sansa. I just brought you here. The doctors saved you.”

“But if you haven’t brought me her, I’d have died.”

“Don’t say that. You cannot know it for sure. It's useless to think about what could have happened under different circumstances.”

“Okay.” Sansa wasn’t going to insist, but she knew she was right. If Petyr hadn’t appeared, she wouldn’t have seen another day.

Another silence followed her words. Sansa guessed he was wondering if she remembered the incident, but he didn't dare to ask. He probably was afraid that she might be upset.

“I don’t remember what happened," she said. "I… I don’t know how I got injured.”

Petyr nodded slowly.

“It’s normal. You were in shock.”

Was he disappointed? Sansa couldn't tell.

“Aemon says that I should give myself some time," she added. "He says that the memories will come to me eventually.”

“He’s the best doctor I know. You should follow his advice.” Petyr paused for a moment. “You should try and relax during your stay here.”

Stay? For how long?

“No.” Sansa leaned forward and whimpered when she felt a sharp pain.

A worried expression crossed his face. He hurried to stand up and touched her arm.

“Careful. You shouldn't do any sudden movement.” 

She gave him a faint nod, gripping the sheet. She knew she should be careful, but she couldn't bear the idea of spending more time locked in that room. She breathed deeply and felt his hand moving up and down her arm gently. His touch was comforting. When the pain lessened, Sansa managed to give him a smile to show him she was alright now, and he responded in kind. _He should smile more often,_ she thought, resting her back against the bed again. She liked the gleam in his eyes when he did so.

Petyr stared at her. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something. 

“I don’t want to stay here," she told him.

He sighed and placed his hand on hers. There was a flicker in his eyes, but Sansa couldn't decipher it.

“Do you live with someone? Or could you stay at someone’s home until you recover?” he asked.

She was tempted to lie but something inside her made her say the truth.

“No.”

He sighed again and opened his mouth to reply, but Sansa added quickly:

“Please. I cannot bear to spend more time here.” She didn’t know what she was asking for, but Petyr seemed to understand.

“You could come with me,” he said finally. “I would hire a nurse to look after you.”

“Yes.” The word spilled from her mouth. She realized this was what she wanted and decided to follow her gut. “I’ll pay you back as soon as I can. I promise.”

“Don’t worry about that. But there’s something you must promise.” His expression was serious.

“What?”

“If the nurse thinks you need to come back here at some point, you won’t refuse.”

“I promise,” she said, but she hoped it would never happen.

“Alright.” Petyr moved his hand away. “I’ll talk with Aemon now.”

“Thank you.”

He stared at her for some seconds before saying:

“I just hope we’ve made the right decision.”


	6. Chapter 5

**Sansa**

She was going to live with him. This was her first thought after Petyr left the room.

She still didn’t believe he had suggested it. In truth Sansa didn’t know what had expected to happen. Something inside her had made her plead and she’d just done it without asking herself about the purpose of it. Her life was a chaos right now. It wasn’t as if nothing strange had happened to her before (in fact, she’d had an inexplicable experience last year) but this surpassed all the others. She felt lost, and her options were very limited. She couldn’t tell her parents and siblings what happened or else they’d come to King’s Landing, and she couldn’t allow them to do that.

She had the feeling that her unconscious mind was trying to tell her something. Perhaps if she listened to it and let it guide her steps, she’d find out what was going on.

The unconscious mind. Sansa had heard of this concept for the first time in high school, during the psychology classes and she’d found it fascinating. Would it be true that there was a deep level in our minds that stored every memory, every experience, even the ones we believed we’d forgotten? Thousands and thousands of information collected in an area of our brain. An area that ran our lives according to some theories but that scientists still didn’t know how to unlock. This concept had intrigued her so much that she’d taken an elective course about it in the Department of Psychology last year. 

If only she could unlock her unconscious mind right now…

She lifted her face when she heard footsteps. A few seconds later, Petyr entered the room accompanied by a woman dressed in a white uniform. 

“This is Ms. Elliot,” he told Sansa. “She’s one of the nurses that works for Aemon. If you’re still decided to come with me, she’ll look after you.”

Sansa glanced at the woman and nodded. She guessed Aemon’s team would be numerous or else he wouldn’t allow one of her nurses to be temporarily absent. Ms. Elliot smiled and walked towards her.

“You look so much better than last night, Sansa,” she said. “Now I’m going to remove the wires and the cannula. Alright?”

“Alright.” Sansa replied and turned her face to Petyr who had stopped next to the bed. She didn’t want to see how the nurse removed the cannula. Needles made her nervous. Petyr seemed to perceive her discomfort for he gave her a nod as if trying to encourage her. Sansa stared into his eyes and felt how her heart rate started returning to normal. Soon the nurse was pressing a cotton ball against the back of her hand. Sansa breathed out slowly. The worst was done. She felt the nurse putting a band-aid over the puncture, but she kept holding Petyr’s gaze. He looked so calm, and there was something mesmerizing in his eyes. Only when she heard the sound of a plastic bag, she turned her face to look at Ms. Elliot. 

“Now I’m going to bring you some clothes and a pair of shoes,” the nurse said. “Sadly, we couldn’t keep yours since the stains didn’t come out, but this morning one of my coworkers went to a clothes store and bought some stuff for you.”

They were on top of everything, Sansa thought.

Once Ms. Elliot left the room, Petyr moved closer and brushed her knuckles with his fingertips. Sansa shivered. _Stop. Don’t do that,_ she wanted to say. She’d realized that she liked it when he touched her. So much. _Too much._ But she couldn’t allow herself to get too attached to him. She didn’t want to miss him when their paths diverged.

“How are you feeling?” he asked moving his hand away.

“Well.”

“Really? Don’t say what you think I want to hear.”

Sansa smiled.

“It’s the truth,” she assured him. “I’m alright.”

He tilted his head.

“Would you let me know if you’re feeling unwell? Even if this meant you would have to stay here for a little longer?”

“Yes. I’m not reckless. Well, not this reckless,” she corrected herself. “I’m feeling so much better than yesterday. Besides, it’s not as if I were leaving this place against medical advice and no sanitarian were going to look after me. Ms. Elliot will come with us and she’ll be checking on me. She’ll know what to do if I have a setback and she…” Sansa paused when a distressed look crossed his face. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

“No. No, of course not.” Petyr shook his head, and the look of distress disappeared. He looked her in the eye and added: “You’re right. Ms. Elliot is a professional. You’ll be alright.”

It was clear that he was lying. Something she said had made him uneasy. But what? Sansa didn’t dare to ask. Whatever it was, Petyr preferred to keep it to himself.

They didn’t talk anymore. When Ms. Elliot came back carrying a bag with the clothes and a pair of shoes, Petyr left the room to give Sansa some privacy.

“I’ll help you dress, dear,” Ms. Elliot said.

“Thank you.”

The nurse opened the bag and showed Sansa what her coworker had bought for her. Apart from the underwear, there were a green coat, a white pullover, two pairs of black trousers, three t-shirts, a floral dress and a pair of shoes. 

“All of this is for me?” Sansa asked surprised. She’d thought Ms. Elliot’s coworker would have bought for her only the indispensable items.

The nurse smiled.

“Yes. This way you can choose what you prefer to wear now and keep the rest. I hope they are to your liking.”

“Yes. I love them. Thank you so much.”

She picked the pullover and a pair of trousers. Ms. Elliot helped her stand up.

“Slowly, dear. There’s no need to rush.”

Sansa nodded. She clenched her jaw when she felt a pang, but she didn’t make any sound. Hopefully Ms. Elliot wouldn’t have noticed it. After the nurse helped her put on the clothes, Sansa sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling very tired. She knew it was a normal reaction. She’d gone through a lot, and her body was still recovering, but it was frustrating all the same.

“Ready to leave? Ms. Elliot asked her.

“Yes.” There was nothing she wished more right now.

“Then I’ll go to tell Mr. Baelish.”

*

Before Sansa could realize, the nurse appeared again, followed by Petyr. He was pushing a wheelchair. Sansa saw a sparkle in his eyes when he looked at her.

“You’re beautiful,” he said in a low voice.

Beautiful. The word caught her off guard. She had never considered herself beautiful. She thought this was too big a word, and she found it hard to believe that Petyr had used it precisely now. Was he being honest or was he just trying to lift her spirits?

Sansa didn’t want to know. She averted her eyes and murmured:

“Thank you.”

“I’ll go and get my bag,” Ms. Elliot interrupted. 

Sansa felt grateful that she’d changed the topic.

Petyr turned to the nurse and said:

“My car is parked near the entrance. Let’s meet there,” he told her. “I can take Sansa in the wheelchair.”

Ms. Elliot nodded. When she left, Petyr placed the wheelchair next to the bed and looked at Sansa.

“May I?” 

“Yes,” she whispered.

Petyr leaned forward and wrapped his right arm around her body. Only some boys her age had touched her waist or wrapped their arms around her body, and this had always happened when Sansa had danced with them. But this felt so much different. Much more intimate. Sansa had trouble breathing normally.

Petyr smelled of herbs. The scent was subtle and pleasant. He had probably showered before coming to visit her. He put his left hand on her waist, carefully, and Sansa felt a wave of heat. 

“Am I hurting you?” he asked softly.

“No.” _Quite the contrary._ Sansa hoped she hadn’t blushed.

“Alright. We’ll go at your pace. We are in no hurry. Grab onto my arm and rest your weight on me.”

Sansa obeyed. She rose to her feet slowly and breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t feel any pang.

“There you are,” Petyr’s lips almost brushed her earlobe. “You’re the strongest girl I’ve ever met.”

His words made her smile. His breath and the sound of his voice made her shiver. 

“Thank you.”

“Do you need to take a break? You can lean against me.”

She pictured herself burying her face in his chest, and her cheeks felt warm.

“I’m fine,” she replied. “I can continue.”

She didn’t feel any pang either as she walked towards the wheelchair. She didn’t need his help to sit down. Petyr took a step back and looked at her as if wanting to make sure that she was alright. 

“Ready to leave?”

“Yes.”

*

Petyr let Sansa choose her bedroom. Ms. Elliot chose the adjacent room so she could check on her more easily, but she told Sansa that she wanted to give her as much privacy as possible. 

Petyr prepared something to eat while they unpacked. Sansa only had the clothes Ms. Elliot had given to her, but Petyr had promised her that they would go to her apartment tomorrow to pick up the things she needed. Sansa hoped she’d find her personal documents and credit cards there. She didn’t remember if she was carrying them when she got injured. If so, either she had lost them, or someone had taken them away.

After dinner, Petyr put the dishes in the dishwasher and went to the living room to read a book. Meanwhile Ms. Elliot helped Sansa take a shower and put on the floral dress. Sansa looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. The dress was beautiful. It made her feel special. She ran her right hand through her hair and turned to the nurse. 

“Could you give me a brush?”

“Of course, dear. Do you want me to brush your hair?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I can do it myself.”

Sansa was brushing her hair for several minutes. She remembered a tale she loved as a child, about a princess whose hair was magic and could grant three wishes. Only three. Back then she wasn’t certain about what she would ask for but now there was a thing she wanted.

To remember.

She set the brush on the dresser and turned to Ms. Elliot again. She didn’t want to get into bed yet. It was too soon.

“I’d like to go to the living room.”

“Alright, dear.” The nurse placed the wheelchair next to her.

“I can walk.”

Ms. Elliot shook her head.

“It’s too much for you in your current state. It would exhaust you. No, dear, you’ll have to use the wheelchair, I'm afraid.”

Sansa sighed. Apparently, she didn’t have any other option if she wanted to go to the living room. 

*

Petyr closed the book when he saw them. He laid his eyes on Sansa.

“How are you feeling?” 

“Well, thank you,” Sansa answered as Ms. Elliot pushed the wheelchair.

The nurse placed it in front of Petyr and said:

“I’ll go back to my bedroom, now, if it’s okay with you.”

Sansa didn’t know who Ms. Elliot was asking the question, but Petyr answered right away:

“It’s totally okay.”

The nurse nodded and looked at Sansa.

“Call me when you want to go to bed, alright?”

“Alright.”

Ms. Elliot smiled and left the room.

Sansa turned to Petyr again, feeling a little nervous. He rested his hands on his leg and looked at her as if he knew she wanted to say something. Sansa looked down at one of the flowers painted in her dress for a moment. Then she met his eyes.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Petyr answered slowly:

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you take me to a real hospital?”

He let out a sigh and averted his eyes.

“I thought that perhaps it wasn’t wise to draw attention to yourself.”

“Why? Did you think I could be a criminal?” 

“No. But we don’t know what happened. If someone attacked you, then we should do everything in our power to prevent them from keeping track of you, don’t we?”

“Yes,” Sansa agreed. “But why do you have access to that place? It doesn’t seem the kind of place common people would know.” She paused, hesitantly.

Petyr chuckled.

“I’m not a criminal, Sansa. But I prefer not to answer that question tonight. It’s a long story.” He leaned forward, and his eyes softened. “Now it’s my turn to ask you a question.”

Her heart pounded faster. 

“Aemon told me that you didn’t want him to inform anyone that you were there,” he continued. “Why? Surely you have someone that cares about you. Family. Friends. A boyfriend.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend. But yes, I have family and friends.” Sansa took a deep breath. “My best friend is studying in Dorne and she won’t come back until April.”

“And what about your family?”

She looked away.

“I don’t want them to come here.”

“Why not? Sansa if there’s something wrong, I need to know. The more information the better. I won’t be able to keep you safe if you hide things from me.”

Sansa looked at him again.

“It’s complicated.”

“Try and explain it to me.”

“You wouldn’t believe me.” She swallowed.

Petyr touched her hand.

“You would be surprised at how many things I can believe.”

Sansa waited for him to say what he'd meant, but he remained quiet. 

“Okay.” She took another breath and looked down at his hand, that was still touching hers. “Last year I had a dream.” It hadn’t been a dream exactly, but she couldn’t tell him totally the truth. “I saw how a car knocked down my parents and my siblings here, in King’s Landing. I hadn’t wanted them to visit me since then. Instead I’ve gone to visit them to Winterfell.” She raised her face, fearing to find a mocking expression on his, but he was serious.

“A dream,” he repeated. “Do you believe these sorts of things exist? Prophetic dreams? Forebodings?”

Sansa held his gaze.

“Yes. I do.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Sansa**

“Why?”

“Sorry?” She looked at him confused.

“Why do you believe in forebodings and prophetic dreams? Do you have any proof that they are real?” Petyr asked, his tone gentle. “Of course, a nightmare like the one you had would upset anyone. It’s awful to dream about the ones you love dying, and I can imagine how terrible you must feel the first few seconds after waking up, while your brain was still adjusting to be awake. The confusion, the disorientation and the anguish because the dream still felt real. That’s completely normal. But the fact that you took this dream seriously intrigues me. Most people would have tried and shake off the bad feeling after waking up and they would have go on with their lives. Instead you allow it to influence yours.” 

Sansa stirred in her seat. 

“I prefer not to talk about it.”

“Sansa.”

“Why do you care about it? It has nothing to do with what happened to me.”

“Why do you know?” He leaned forward. “When I found you, you told me you had seen me before. I saw you in your dreams. Those were your exact words. This must mean something.”

“I don’t remember saying those words,” she replied quickly though she was certain Petyr wasn’t lying. She herself had told Aemon that when she talked with him about her memories, but she didn’t feel comfortable knowing that she’d also told Petyr.

She’d been in shock. The fact that she didn’t remember what her own words was frightening. She’d spoken without a filter. What other things had she said? She was afraid to ask. 

“Sansa, you’re turning pale.” He touched her arm, and she saw concern in his eyes.

“I’m alright. It’s just… It’s scaring.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I barely remember our first meeting. I… I feel as if I hadn’t been there with you. As if the girl injured and disoriented had been a different person, not me.”

“It’s normal. You were in shock.” He pulled his hand away and leaned back in his seat again. Was he disappointed? His expression was unreadable now. “Alright. I think we’ve reached an impasse. We won’t be able to make any progress if we don’t trust each other.”

“Yes, I guess so,” she said cautiously. He was right. This alliance wouldn’t work if they keep hiding things from each other. “But I don’t want to talk about the dream I had or about the reason why I decided to take it seriously, and you don’t want to tell me about your relationship with Aemon, so I don’t know how we’re supposed to build trust.”

Petyr sighed.

“I’m going to tell you something. I’ve been debating whether I should do it or not since I met you because it’s a delicate topic, but I think you have the right to know, and I don’t want you to learn it from other people.” His expression turned somber.

What was he talking about? Sansa tensed in her seat. 

“I recognized you,” he said. “As soon as I saw you walking down the street, I knew who you were.”

“What do you mean?” How had he been able to recognize her if they had never met before?

Petyr let out another sigh.

“This isn’t easy,” he confessed. “I don’t like to talk about my past.”

“Your past? I’m not following you. What are you trying to tell me?”

“My father and your grandfather, Hoster, were friends in their youth.”

“Oh.” Sansa tried to hide her surprise. Her family had never mentioned him, and she’d never seen any picture of him in the family album either.

“Yeah, I guessed your family probably hadn’t told you.” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice, but before Sansa could open her mouth, he continued: “After my father died, I moved to Hoster’s home. I lived in Riverrun until I turned eighteen. Then I came here.”

“You… You lived with my mother.” He seemed to be a few years younger than her mother.

“Yes. Does it bother you?”

“I don’t know,” she answered. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Because I don’t like to talk about the reason why I left Riverrun.” He turned his eyes away and breathed. “But I guess that now we’re having this conversation I have to tell you.”

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want.”

Petyr gave her a sad smile.

“You’re kind. But it’s best to clear it up once and for all, so we can focus on the future.”

“Alright,” she said softly.

“I’m not certain if you know that before dating your father, your mother was in a relationship with another person,” he started.

Sansa nodded.

“My uncle Brandon.”

“Yes. Well, I’m not proud of this, but when I was eighteen, I had a fight with him. We were in a pub, and we had drunk too much. It started with an argument but soon the discussion heated up.” His eyes didn’t show any emotion. It seemed as if he was talking about other people. “I don’t remember who hit or push the other first. What I remember is that at some point, your uncle Brandon spilled his drink, broke the glass and cut me in my torso. I had to be hospitalized for several weeks, but I learned a very useful lesson. Don’t let your emotions take the control.” 

The silence fell over the room. 

No, it couldn’t be possible. Her uncle Brandon. 

No. No. No.

Sansa hadn’t known him, and her parents had barely told her about him, but learning what he’d done made her heart ache. How had he been capable of doing something so terrible? How?

“I’m so sorry.”

Her voice had sounded so faint that at first she thought he hadn’t heard her, but after a little while, Petyr shook his head and replied:

“Don’t worry. It’s been twenty-five years since then. What happened doesn’t haunt me anymore.”

“Still. What happened to you is awful. I wish… I wish I could undo it. My family must have taken care of you. Instead, one of them almost killed you.” She looked away when she felt a lump in her throat. She wanted to cry.

“Sansa.” He touched her arm lightly. “Sansa, look at me.”

She obeyed. His eyes showed tenderness now.

“Your grandfather took care of me. I have fond memories of the time we spent together. Do you know he loved observing nature?”

“No,” she answered. “He died when I was five. I don’t have many memories of him.”

“I’m sorry. Your grandfather was a good man. I feel grateful for the time I could spend with him.”

Sansa tried to smile, but a tear ran down her cheek. Petyr wiped it with his thumb.

“I didn’t mean to make you sad,” he murmured. “I have many good memories of my time in Riverrun. I loved observing the nature with your grandfather. We had binoculars and a recorder, and we also had a notebook in which we wrote down our discoveries and made drawings. Your mother and your uncle didn’t share our passion for nature, so it was just the two of us. We felt like scientists and adventurers at the same time.” He laughed cheerfully, and Sansa laughed too, glad to see him happy and relieved that her grandfather had treated him well.

“I’m so happy to hear that, Petyr. Truly.”

He caressed the back of her hand, his lips curving up in a soft smile.

“Thank you. Now you should probably get some rest. Tomorrow we can go to your apartment to pick up your stuff.”

“Alright.” She put her other hand on his and squeezed it gently. “Thank you for telling me.”

“You’re welcome.”

*

“How did you sleep?” Petyr asked her in the morning.

“Very well.”

He chuckled.

“You looked surprised,” he said.

“Yes.” She laughed. “It’s been a long time since I last slept so well.”

“I’m glad you could rest.”

After breakfast, they went to her apartment, and Ms Elliot accompanied them, but Sansa managed to persuade her not to carry the wheelchair. They were going by car and afterwards they would go back to Petyr’s home. 

He stayed in the living room while the nurse helped Sansa pack her stuff. 

“I’m going to the toilet,” Ms Elliot told her once they finished. 

“Sure. It’s at the end of the corridor on the right.”

“Thank you.”

When the nurse left, Sansa walked towards her bookshelf. She’d already picked the novels she wanted to take with her, but there was something that she wanted Petyr to have. Her hand grabbed what she was looking for.

A green notebook. Smiling, she put it in her suitcase and headed towards the living room. 

Petyr was sat on the sofa, watching the news. He turned off the TV when he saw her.

“Did you finish packing?” 

“Yes,” she said approaching him.

“Your eyes are shining. Did something happen?”

“I’m just happy.”

*

Like the day before, after dinner Petyr was reading a book until Sansa entered the room, accompanied by Ms. Elliot, who was pushing the wheelchair. He fixed his eyes on the notebook Sansa was carrying on her lap, and his mouth opened slightly. He had recognized it. 

Once the nurse left, Sansa handed him the notebook, her heart beating fast with excitement. He didn’t move. 

“Petyr.” She smiled. 

Slowly he raised his gaze. He looked overwhelmed.

“I want you to have it,” she continued. “I haven’t read it, but I picked it up from my parent’s house before coming here to study at the university, and I’m glad I did because you deserve to have it. I thought all the drawings and notes were my grandfather’s, but now that I know many of them are yours and it has a lot of value for you, it's only fair that you keep it.”

“Sansa…”

“Please, accept it. It would make me very happy.”

He took it, a little hesitant, and his hands trembled a little.

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. I’m happy to return it to you.”

Petyr opened the notebook as if it was made of glass, and his fingers caressed the corners. He seemed in a trance. He looked like someone who had just found a treasure. The notebook must be a treasure for him, Sansa thought. She was wondering if she should leave now and give him some privacy, when Petyr looked at her again, swallowing.

“Would… would you like to see some drawings?”

“I’d love to.” Knowing that he wanted to share this moment with her made her feel warm inside. She smiled at him.

“Alright.” He turned the pages as if looking for a specific drawing. “Ah, here it is.” He showed the page to her. “This is the first drawing I made. It’s a mockingbird.”

As soon as she heard his words, Sansa felt lighthearted, and when she saw the animal, the room started spinning and she shut her eyes to make it stop.

“Sansa. Sansa!” Petyr’s voice seemed to sound from afar, and soon she couldn’t hear him anymore.

Different images began flashing through her mind. She could see herself sewing in a small room with stone walls. She was wearing strange clothes. They looked medieval. The door opened and someone entered.

Petyr. It was him, but he was also dressed up. Her heart skipped a beat when she looked at the mockingbird pin hooked in his cloak.

_“Why did you help me?”_

The room started spinning around. Or it was her head? When she opened her eyes again, Petyr (the man who had found her injured and had saved her life, the Petyr of the present) was still repeating her name, his expression terrified.

“I’m here,” she said. Because her mind had traveled to the past, she was sure. Now she knew why his face was familiar to her.

Their paths had crossed for the first time several centuries ago, when he was the Master of the Coin and she was the Hand of the King’s daughter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sansa**

She didn’t know how long she’d been in trance. She’d returned to the present after hearing Petyr’s question.

_Why did you help me?_

She knew the reason why he’d asked her that. It might sound strange, but in her vision, she’d been able to see herself (or her past self) sewing a dress and she’d been inside her head at the same time and had learned everything she’d experienced until then: her father’s dead; the way her life in King’s Landing had turned into a nightmare; Joffrey’s death; how Petyr had smuggled her away; the days they’d spent together in the ship; her life in The Vale…

Apparently in her past life she had an aunt called Lysa. Sansa was relieved that she’d never existed in her present life because Lysa hated her. Her aunt was obsessed with Petyr and saw Sansa as a threat. 

Lysa was convinced that Petyr wanted her.

_What have you let Petyr do with your body? Your young pretty body._

Lysa’s words came to her mind once more, and Sansa shuddered. The memories of her past life felt as real as the ones of her present, and the combination was too much.

Petyr. In his past life he’d lived for several years in Riverrun too. His father and Hoster had been friends and they’d fought together in the War of the Ninepenny Kings. Hoster had agreed to foster Petyr, a big honor and opportunity. House Tully was one of the Great Houses of Westeros.

He’d been raised with Lysa, Cat and Edmure. From the beginning, Lysa had been fantasizing about being his wife and had been jealous of her own sister, because Petyr had fallen in love with her.

Her mother. Petyr had been in love with her mother and had challenged Brandon to a duel for her.

For her mother.

And Brandon had almost killed him with a sword. He’d only stopped because Cat had asked him to spare Petyr’s life.

Were there any similarities to the present? No. Surely there were no similarities. It was so twisted. Petyr must have never been in love with her mother in the present. This had only happened many centuries ago, in ancient times, in a world where dragons and maegi existed, and people believed in prophecies. Not here. No. Petyr couldn’t be in love with her mother.

She opened her mouth when she felt a sharp pain in her chest. She was starting to see flashing lights.

“Sansa.” Petyr brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Sansa, breathe.”

Breathe? She frowned and tried to stare into his eyes. Her vision was blurry. 

“Sansa.” He took her hands and placed them in his chest. “Breathe with me. Breathe with me, sweetling.”

Sweetling? He’d called her sweetling in her past life too.

 _Were you in love with my mother?_ She wanted to ask him. She gripped his shirt. A high-pitched sound escaped her throat. She was going to faint.

“Close your eyes and breathe through your nose. Trust me, you’re alright. Just breathe.”

She obeyed, but didn’t loose her grip on his shirt, and he didn’t try to pull her hands away.

“There you are,” he said softly. “Now let out the air slowly. Feel my chest moving down. Can you feel how relaxed I am? Everything around us is quiet. You are safe. No one is going to hurt you. Inhale. Slowly. Yes, very good.”

The pressure in her lungs began to disappear. Petyr kept talking to her, but Sansa didn’t pay attention to what he was saying. She just focused on the sound of his voice. It was soothing.

Later, when her breathing return to normal and she loosened her grip on his shirt, his thumbs caressed her wrists for several seconds before letting go of her hands.

Sansa let out a sigh and rested them on her lap. She felt ashamed of her loss of control. She’d never felt so overwhelmed in her life and she wished he hadn’t witnessed it.

As if he’d read her mind, Petyr said:

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You had a panic attack.”

“I had never had a panic attack before. Sometimes I’ve felt stressed about exams, but it was nothing compared to this. I thought I was about to suffocate.”

“But you didn’t. You managed to stop your panic attack. Now it’s over. You’re strong, Sansa. More than you think.”

“Thank you.”

“How are you feeling now?” Petyr asked, tilting his head, his tone cautious. 

“So much better.”

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” 

Did she? Could she trust him? Perhaps he helped her understand. She needed to find out what was happening. Besides, Petyr had saved her life and he hadn’t tried anything against her so far. She would take the risk, she decided nodding at him. Sansa hoped she wasn’t making a mistake.

“You had a vision, hadn’t you?”

“Yes,” she answered. “How… how do you know?” 

“It’s not the first supernatural thing I’ve witnessed.”

“What do you mean?”

Petyr didn’t answer. Instead, he opened his hand, his palm up. Sansa frowned and raised her eyes to meet his again. What was he trying to show her?

“Look, sweetling,” he whispered.

Sansa glanced at his palm once more and gasped.

An iceball was emerging from his hand.

How… how could this be possible? 

Sansa lifted her chin and observed the look of concentration on his face. His body was trembling slightly, and he’d started panting with the effort. The iceball grew bigger until becoming similar to an ice cream scoop. Letting out a grunt, he stopped. He looked her in the eyes, his breath ragged. A tiny drop of blood came out of his nose. Sansa leaned forward and wiped it with her index finger. 

Neither of them spoke.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: In this chapter, Petyr tells Sansa about the injury Brandon inflicted on him. I tried not to be very explicit, but I wanted to give a heads-up regardless.

**Sansa**

_Who are you, Petyr? Are you human?_ Sansa wanted to ask, but she remained silent, holding his gaze. She didn’t know how she felt right now. Petyr could create ice. Was he able of doing other things? 

If someone had told her last year that she was going to have visions and met a man that could create ice, Sansa would have thought they were pulling her leg. However, she would have discovered soon they were serious.

Last year she’d had the first one, the vision about her parents and her sister. She’d told Petyr it had been a dream for fear that he might think she’d had a hallucination, but now her fear seemed pointless. He’d just seen her have a vision.

Apparently, Sansa could see events from her past life and events that hadn’t happened yet. The past and the future. She firmly believed the future wasn’t written. Her parents and her sister would be safe so long as they stayed away from King’s Landing, she was certain. 

It hadn’t been easy to keep her vision secret. She’d have wanted to tell her best friend, but something had stopped her from doing so. She'd felt alone, not knowing if there were other people with supernatural abilities, not knowing why she was different. Now she’d just learned that Petyr could create ice. His ability was very different from hers, but he must have experienced the same loneliness. He must have wondered why he was different or if they were others like him.

It couldn’t be a coincidence that they’d met. Were their paths predestined to cross?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Petyr spoke finally:

“I’ll go to throw this in the sink,” he said glancing at the iceball still in his hand. “Wait here, please.” 

The sound of his voice startled her. It had sounded hoarse, as if he had a cold. Did the use of his power affect his physical health? 

Her concern grew when she noticed that Petyr seemed to have trouble standing up. She leaned forward, wanting to help him, but he raised his hand and said in a curt tone:

“I’m alright.”

Sansa froze instantly, a little hurt by his reaction. His expression softened, and he added:

“I’m alright, Sansa. Remember you can’t overexert yourself.” 

“Okay.” She leaned back again. 

Petyr left the room without saying another word. When he came back, he’d brought a wet wipes box with him. 

“May I?” He gestured to her hand.

Sansa lowered her eyes and saw the tiny blood stain had dried. She’d almost forget about it, but Petyr’s face showed disgust, as if he hated that his blood had stained her finger.

“It’s alright, Petyr,” she said extending her arm. “It’s just a tiny drop. I’m not disgusted, rather I’m worried. Is using your power harmful?” Her visions had never made her bleed.

He took her hand and started cleaning her finger, his movements gentle. Sansa kept staring at his face, waiting for him to answer her question.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “This is the third time I’ve used it. It’s been a long time since I last used it. I don’t understand how this works or what the consequences are. I… I wasn’t born like this.”

A brief silence followed his words.

“Do you mean that you got this power? Just like… just like many superheroes in fiction?” She felt a little ridiculous saying this, but her question made him laugh, and the tension in the room dissipated for a moment.

“Yeah, I guess we could say that. But I don’t consider myself a superhero in any way.” He paused, and his eyes darkened: “And I have reasons to think that this might be some kind of curse.”

“What do you mean?”

He hesitated. Probably this was the first time he was talking with someone about this. It was one thing to mull over a matter, but it wasn’t a different thing to verbalize your thoughts. 

“I think I got my power when your uncle cut me,” he answered finally.

“What? How?”

“I don’t know, but it’s the best explanation I’ve come up with. I almost died that night. I spent several weeks in the hospital, immersed in delirious dreams. The doctors weren’t very optimistic, but I survived. Perhaps my body wasn’t only healing, but also mutating. I don’t know. Shortly after waking up, I was discharged against medical advice. It wasn’t a wise thing to do, specially considering what happened after, but I felt I couldn’t stay there any longer.” He smiled bitterly. “I guess you can relate.”

Sansa remembered the look of distress on his face the day she’d left Aemon’s building. _It’s not as if I were leaving this place against medical advice and no sanitarian were going to look after me, she’d told him_. Her words had made him remember his own experience. And judging by what he’d just said, things hadn't turned out very well.

“What happened?” Sansa whispered.

“I left Riverrun and came here. I didn’t have a place to stay and didn’t have much money either, so I wandered the streets in search for a cheap hostel. I walked for hours, ignoring the warning signs my body was sending. First, I started feeling lighthearted. Soon I was sweating, and my vision was blurry, but I didn’t stop. It got dark and I hadn’t found any place to stay yet. I felt so frustrated and worried that I hadn’t realized that my shirt was dampened.” He tightened his jaw. “It wasn’t sweat.”

Sansa turned paled.

“It was your injury,” she said.

“Yes. The sutures had come out.”

Sansa shuddered and couldn't help but think of her own injury. Since Aemon had mentioned the possibilty, she'd been afraid this might happened to her, and knowing that Petyr had gone through this, made her feel a knot in her chest. And he’d been alone in a strange place, with no friends and no family. Someone could have attacked or mugged him.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry, the story has a happy ending,” he replied. “Aemon found me and saved my life. He was passing by an alley when he saw me lying on the floor. I don’t like to owe anyone anything and I don’t want people know important things about me either. Information is power, Sansa, and most people are willing to use it against you in order to get what they want.” Petyr pressed his lips together before continuing. “Unfortunately, I owe Aemon my life and he knows about my power. In fact, he was the one who discovered it. After I regained consciousness, Aemon told me that when he checked my pulse, I grabbed his sleeve even instinctively even though my eyes remained closed. Aemon told me that I was gripping it so hard that he thought he would have to rip the fabric. When he managed to pull his arm away, he saw that his sleeve was frozen. I had frozen his sleeve, Sansa. Just imagine if I had touched his skin in that moment. I could have killed him.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I was lucky then. But I don’t want to tempt my luck.”

Sansa understood his concern. Her power couldn’t harm others, at least that's what it seemed, and yet it frightened her. She didn’t understand either how it worked or what the consequences of using it were

“You said you’d used it twice before,” she said slowly. “When was the other time?”

“A couple of weeks later. Aemon wanted to see another demonstration, this time while I was conscious. He said that if I could freeze things, probably I could also create ice, so he asked me to try. And you know the rest. I felt exhausted afterwards, but I thought it was because I wasn’t totally recovered yet. Now we both know that I was wrong.” He paused, staring into her eyes. “You must be right, sweetling. This power affects my physical health.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I was writing this chapter and the previous one, I realized I had taken some inspiration from Merlin's character (Camelot TV Series 2011) to create Petyr's character in this story. I watched that series when it aired and Merlin's character really intrigued me. I wish this series had been renewed, but there's only one season.
> 
> I hope you're enjoying this story. Thank you so much for the comments, kudos, bookmarks and suscriptions! :-)


	10. Chapter 10

**Sansa**

If this was true, if using his power was harmful, Sansa regretted that he’d given her a demonstration. He could have just told her instead. Though perhaps she wouldn’t have believed him.

It didn’t matter now, she reasoned. It was pointless to think about other scenarios when the reality was that Petyr had used his power for the third time. If he’d made a mistake, there was no way to fix it. They should be more careful from now on. 

Petyr was still looking at her, and there was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes that made him look younger. Sansa couldn’t help but think of the boy he’d been. The boy who had lived with her mother, her uncle and her grandfather in Riverrun. The boy who had almost died twice.

Sansa wanted to tell him that everything would be alright, but she bit her tongue: those words sounded empty in her mind. She couldn’t ensure him that they would be safe. The future was uncertain. Even if she had a premonition, there was no guarantee it came true. 

“I think you shouldn’t use your power, at least until we know how it works,” she finally said.

Petyr interlaced his fingers in his lap.

“I concur,” he replied slowly. 

A new silence fell over the room. Sansa stared at her hands, now clean. The smell of the wet wipe still lingered in the air.

She heard Petyr stir in his seat and knew what he was about to say.

“You haven’t told me about you vision yet.” His voice sounded cautious, as if he were eager to know but didn’t want to pressure her.

Sansa knew he wasn’t going to oblige her to speak, but he’d showed her his power, so it was only fair to tell him about her vision, right?

“Do you believe in past lives?”

Petyr frowned. 

“I had never asked myself this question,” he admitted. “I remember I studied the concept of metempsychosis when I was in high school, but I just know the basics. Why? Did you have a vision of a past life?” 

“I think so,” she answered. “It has been so strange. I’ve only seen a scene, and it didn’t look very relevant though I knew everything that had happened before, as if I had gotten inside my past self’s head, but at the same time I could see myself from outside my body. And this isn’t the strangest thing of all.”

His eyes flickered.

“What is the strangest thing?”

“You were in my vision,” she answered. This was the first time she said it aloud, and her own words sounded shocking in her ears. They both had enough reasons to believe in the paranormal, yet it seemed unbelievable that they had met in a past life and their paths had crossed again many centuries later.

However, Petyr didn’t look surprised. Either he was hiding his shock or what she’d said sounded logical to him.

“So we met in a past life,” he murmured.

“It seems so.”

“Could you tell what you saw and learned? We might find out some clue to understand what’s going on.”

Sansa breathed out. 

“Okay, but it will take me some time. I learned many things about my past self, about that world, and about the people I was in touch with.” _I learned many things about you._

“It’s alright, you can take as much time as you need to tell me your vision. And if you feel tired at some point, we can continue tomorrow.”

“I don’t think I can sleep too much tonight,” she confessed.

“Yeah, same here.” He gave her a little smile and then he gestured to the corner of the room. “Would you like us to move to the sofa? I think we’ll be more comfortable.”

“Okay.”

Sansa was feeling better than the previous days, but she didn’t complain when he helped her stand up. As they walked, she felt his right hand gently brushing her back. We are together in this, his gesture seemed to say.

He took her hand in his after they sat down and nodded.

“Go on,” he whispered.

Sansa took a deep breathed and started.

She told him everything, everything except the kiss they’d shared in the Eyrie. A slight warmth spread across her cheeks when she mentioned the snow castle they’d built, but if Petyr noticed it, he pretended not to. His face had turned unreadable since the moment he’d sat. He hadn’t even reacted when she told him that he’d been in love with Cat in his past life. Sansa had hoped to find out if he was in love with her mother in this life too, but it seemed that she would have to ask him directly if she wanted to know.

She wished she could hide her emotions this well.

When she told him about Lysa’s death, Sansa omitted that her aunt had caught them kissing. Instead she said that Lysa had tried to kill her because she thought Sansa wanted to steal him from her. She felt guilty for hiding this information from him, but she wasn’t ready to talk about the kiss, especially when she didn’t know if he’d been or if he was still in love with her mother. 

When she finished speaking, his expression hadn’t changed, but that was expected. He was still processing the information, Sansa could tell. She looked down at her hand, still in his, and waited for him to order his thoughts. 

“We went through a lot, didn’t we?” Petyr murmured after a while. “That world looked tougher than this one.”

“Yes,” she whispered, thinking of the events in King’s Landing.

“That boy. Joffrey. Do you know him?”

“No. Fortunately.”

“Good. If you ever see him…”

“I’ll run in the opposite direction,” Sansa interrupted him, trying to lighten the mood.”

Petyr chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s a wise decision. I’m also relieved that we’ve never met Lysa either.”

The memory of what happened in the Moon Door flashed through her mind, and she shuddered. 

“I cannot believe you married her,” she said, unable to hide the sorrow in her voice. Did she feel hurt? Jealous? Did it pain her to know that he’d married a woman he hated? It was probably a mix of all this.

“Ey, I didn’t marry her.” He let go of her hand and lifted her chin. “I’m not that person, Sansa, just like you aren’t your past self. The circumstances were different. The world was different. Fuck. There were even dragons!”

He was right. However, Sansa couldn’t help but wonder what he would be willing to do to get what he wanted in this world. 

“Say something, please,” he asked her.

“I don’t know if I want to have more visions of my past life. What if I find out we did something really awful?”

“Sansa, we aren’t them,” he repeated. “You must always keep this in mind. Whatever you find out in the future, we’ll handle it, alright?”

“Alright.” What else she could do? 

“The dream about your parents and your sisters…”

“It was a vision.” Sansa finished his sentence.

“Did something strange happen before you had it? Something that could activate your power?”

“Well, there was something, but I don’t know if it’s related.”

“Tell me.”

“Last year I took an elective course about the unconscious mind and I met some people that were fascinated by paranormal topics. One day, one of them had a party in his house and invited us. He hired a fortune teller and insisted we let her read our palms. He said it would be fun. I thought it would be something totally harmless so I agreed.”

“What happened?”

“The fortune teller just told me generic things: that I would meet a man in the future and he’d become the love of my life, that I’d face important challenges. I don’t know. Things like that. Nothing she told me had any real impact on me. But when she took my hand I experienced an odd sensation. It was as if someone was stirring something in my mind. I don’t know how to explain it, but it was unpleasant.”

“What did the fortune teller look like?”

“I don’t know. She was covered from head to toe. I could only see her eyes. I guessed she was trying to look mysterious.”

“Or perhaps she didn’t want you to recognize her.”

“Do you think she activated my powers?”

“It’s a possibility,” Petyr said quietly.

“Perhaps we should tell Aemon.”

“Perhaps.”

“Don’t you trust him?” Sansa asked him, surprised. 

“He saved my life, but I’m always wary when it comes to reveal important information. Let’s wait, alright? For now, we’ll focus on your recovery. Once your wound is healed, we’ll evaluate the possibilities and decide the best course of action.”

“Alright.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter some months ago, but I hadn't posted it because I had gotten stuck. But lately I've been thinking about this story and I'd really like to continue it :-) This story is darker than my other fics and it's challenging for me, but I hope you're enjoying it. Thanks for reading! :-)

**Sansa**

They would wait, then. Sansa averted her eyes from him. Part of her was relieved that they would allow themselves some time to think, to decide the best course of action; it felt good not to have to make a decision just yet; but this also meant they wouldn’t investigate for now. Sansa wanted, _needed,_ to know more. Did the fortune teller activate her powers? Why? A though entered her mind, and she looked at him again.

“Petyr.” A shiver ran down her spine. “What if someone knows that we have these abilities? Someone besides Aemon, I mean.”

_What if someone is spying on us and we haven’t noticed?_

His expression darkened.

“Then, we should find them, Sansa,” he said in a low voice. “We should find out what they know and what their intentions are. We should do everything in our power so they cannot harm us.”

A silence fell over the room. Petyr had spoken calmly, but his words had made Sansa shudder. 

_We should do everything in our power so they cannot harm us._

Everything.

What did everything mean? What did he mean? What was he willing to do to ensure they would be safe?

Sansa swallowed. She wanted to ask him, but the question just didn’t come out. Something had given her pause. Perhaps the look on his face? Petyr’s eyes were still fixed on hers, and the darkness she’d seen in them was still there. 

Sansa swallowed again, unable to look away. What was he thinking? Was he expecting her to ask what he meant? Or was he silently warning her against it? Maybe Petyr was certain that she wouldn’t like his answer.

Was he really willing to do everything?

Everything?

“We should go to sleep.” His voice broke the silence finally. “It’s late, and I have to work tomorrow.”

Of course. He had to get up early to go to the university. Sansa felt bad for having forgotten.

“Sure,” she put her hands on the sofa to push herself up but paused when Petyr touched her shoulder.

“Wait,” he said softly.

Sansa looked him in the eye again, confused. She thought he wanted to leave now.

“Ms Andeer will come at 9 o’clock. She’s the cleaner,” he explained before Sansa could ask. “She has a copy of the keys and comes twice a week. I’ve already told her that you and Ms Elliot will be here. If any of your clothes need to be ironed, put them on the basket placed in the hall. She can also clean your bedroom. Just tell her what stuff she mustn’t touch, and she will respect your wishes.” 

A cleaner? A stranger, she thought. She stirred in her seat. She wasn’t comfortable with the idea of a stranger wandering around the house. _This is not your house,_ she corrected herself. _It’s Petyr’s._ He had every right to let anyone enter his house. No way! 

Thought she couldn’t help but be worried.

“What have you told her about me?”

“That you are a friend’s daughter who had an accident a few days ago, and since your parents don’t live in this city, I offered to let you stay here until you recover.” She felt the feather soft brush of his fingers caressing her back for a moment and then, he went on: “Don’t worry, Sansa, I’ve known her for a long time.”

“You insinuated before that you don’t trust people,” Sansa pointed out.

Petyr let out a small laugh, though he didn’t look amused.

“That’s true, but Ms Andeer knows nothing about our abilities or our past lives. She is my employee, that’s her only connection with me. I know we should be extra careful, but trust me, you have nothing to worry, not in this case.”

He was asking her to trust him when he didn’t seem to trust anyone. Sansa sighed. She hoped he was right. Perhaps she was being extremely suspicious and needed to calm down a bit. 

“Okay,” she said finally.

“I’ll be back at 3 o’clock, but you can always call me if anything happens.”

She nodded.

“Hey.” He lifted her chin.

Sansa looked up at him and she didn’t try to hide her concern. 

Petyr let out a small breath as his thumb caressed her chin. “Sweetling, you’ll be alright. No one is going to hurt you again. You have my word.”

Sansa wasn’t naïve; he couldn’t promise her this. Petyr was just trying to comfort her. However, his words and the tone he’d used managed to soothe her a little. She nodded and tried to smile, hoping to show him that she appreciated his efforts. He seemed to understand for his lips curved upwards. 

“I’ll escort you to your bedroom.” His hand moved to her arm. “Let me.” The last two words had sounded more like a question. He was asking for permission.

Sansa glanced at his hand before nodding. Petyr didn’t wait any longer. He wrapped his arm around her waist and took her right hand.

Sansa felt a tingling sensation through her body, just like every time he helped her stand up. Sansa had thought she would only feel this way the first few times, that her body would get used to his touch eventually. Her body should have stopped reacting like this by now.

Sansa didn’t know if it was a good thing to be so responsive to his touch, to his presence.

Once they stood up, Petyr pulled away and looked her in the eye. But suddenly he broke the eye contact and stared at the door. He seemed eager to leave. His reaction made her feel something she couldn’t interpret. Disappointment? No, she couldn’t be disappointed to see that he wanted to leave.

She started walking, and he followed her right away.

They didn’t speak again until they stepped into her bedroom. Petyr turned on the light and paused next to the door. Sansa walked towards the nightstand and then she turned to him again, feeling a little shy suddenly. Petyr’s gaze had suddenly darkened. What was he thinking? Sansa clasped her hands.

“Thank you for escorting me.”

“You’re welcome,” he said in low voice, his eyes fixed on hers. To her surprise, he didn’t leave. Instead, he approached her, his footsteps slow. Was he giving her a chance to stop him?

Sansa remained still. She wondered what he was going to do. Only a few moments before she’d thought he was in a hurry to go to his bedroom.

He stopped only a few inches from her face and swallowed. Sansa knit her brow and opened her mouth to ask him if something was wrong, but then he leaned forward and gave her a quick peck on her cheek. Sansa held her breath.

“Good night, Sansa,” he whispered in her ear.

He pulled back, but Sansa couldn’t see his expression because he had turned away quickly and was heading towards the door. Without a word, he left the room and closed the door behind him.

Sansa let out the breath she’d been holding and raised her hand tentatively to touch her cheek, to touch the spot he’d kissed, but she paused and lowered her arm again. Her lips curled into a smile. His action had taken her by surprise, but she wasn’t annoyed, quite the contrary.

But why he’d done that? Did he feel something for her?

Stop, she told herself. It had been just a comforting gesture after the conversation they’ve had, nothing else. The thought made her feel heaviness in her chest, and her reaction surprised her.

Gods, what did she want to happen between them? She ran her hands through her hair with frustration. 

What did she feel for Petyr? She couldn’t fall in love with him. She doesn’t know what kind of relationship he’d had with her mother. She didn’t know if he’d loved Catelyn.

The heaviness in her chest grew bigger, and Sansa had to open her mouth to breath. 

It was better not to think about that now. Tonight, she wouldn’t find out anything about the relationship between Petyr and her mother. Thinking about it would only make her feel sadder, and she would stay up all night. She needed to get some rest. She inhaled deeply and walked towards the bed, dragging her feet.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I was writing this chapter I listened to the song Cameo by Mick Flannery, starring Aidan. He's always a great inspiration :-) After this song ended, another one started: Valentine by I Draw Slow. I had never listened to it and I learned that Aidan also stars in this music video, so I wanted to let you know in case anyone wants to watch it (though I have to give a heads-up: it doesn't have a happy ending).

**Sansa**

Sansa opened her eyes slowly. The house was quiet, but something had woken her up. A feeling.

The feeling that something was wrong. She sat up and pulled the blanket off.

She frowned.

A faint yellowish light was shining in her bedroom, but the lights were turned off, so it didn’t come from the bedside lamp or the fluorescent tube. 

Her eyes traveled around the room, her mind trying to come up with an explanation, but her brain felt slow, so slow. It was strange: the sensation was different than when she’d woken up in Aemon’s building, after fainting in Petyr’s arms. She wasn’t in pain now, and that was strange too. The painkillers helped, but they had never made the pain completely go away. She supposed it was normal: wounds hurt while healing. But now, in this very moment, she didn’t feel anything. Anything at all. It seemed like she was out of her body, but she couldn’t look at herself. She wasn’t floating. Her soul, her conscience, hadn’t left her body. She could dismiss this hypothesis.

She wasn’t relieved. 

She climbed out of the bed. She knew there was a carpet covering the floor, but she couldn’t feel it beneath her feet.

I’m not floating, she reminded herself.

She left the room in silence. 

A gust of frozen air made her hair flutter. Had someone let a window open? The corridor was dark, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t know where she was going, but her feet seemed to know. Her feet were taking her somewhere, and Sansa didn’t wonder how this was possible. She just kept walking.

Until she heard like a spark and felt someone standing behind her. 

She quickly turned away.

Someone or something had lighted up the corridor, and there were two people in front of her.

One of them was Petyr.

But… but he’d grown a small beard and he was dressed in a strange way. He was wearing a gray velvet tunic and a silver cape fastened at the neck with a mockingbird pin. 

This wasn’t the Petyr she knew, Sansa realized.

This was Lord Baelish.

Surprisingly, Sansa didn’t feel shocked. She didn’t know who could be possible that the Petyr from the present had traveled through time, but she just accepted the fact.

A movement made by the other person standing beside him caught her attention. Sansa turned her eyes away from Petyr and watched the other person. A hood covered their face, but they were taller than Petyr. Who were they? And what were they doing there? Did they also come from the past? Where and when had they met Petyr, or rather, Lord Baelish? And what kind of relationship did they have with Petyr?

Suddenly the hooded person reached into his cape and pulled out a knife. 

Sansa’s breath hitched. What…? Suddenly, the hooded person leaped on Lord Baelish. On Petyr. She didn’t care if this was the Petyr from the past or the Petyr from the present. She yelled, wishing she could do something to prevent what was going to happen.

“Nooo!”

The hooded person stabbed him in the chest. Where his heart should be, Sansa thought, her screams turning into sobs. She bent into her knees.

“Petyr!” 

A red stain spread across his tunic, and his face contorted in pain.

“No! No! Petyr!” She rested her hands on the floor and flinched when her fingers dipped in water. She looked down and saw she was inside a puddle. Not only that, she was soaking wet, and her hair was dripping, the drops of water intermingling with her tears.

_What’s going on?_

She lifted her head and just in this moment, both Lord Baelish and the attacker vanished.

She was alone again.

What was happening?

She blinked, tears still sliding down her cheeks, her body trembling.

But her clothes and her hair were dry. There was no puddle. 

The corridor was in the dark once more. 

Sansa wrapped her arms around her stomach and tilted her head forward. It didn’t make sense. Petyr, Lord Baelish, had been there. Or had it been a hallucination? 

No, it had felt real. It had.

Wait… Lord Baelish was his past life. They were connected, undoubtedly. And he, Lord Baelish, had come here, he’d been attacked here, in the present. A cold shudder ran through her.

What if this attack (she didn’t want to think of the word murder) had had consequences? What if…?

Petyr.

She rested her hand against the wall and hurried to stand up. A shooting pain in her belly took her breath away. She winced and pressed her other hand down on her abdomen.

Pain. She was feeling pain again. The thought entered her mind, but she didn’t think over it. She began to walk blindly. She was heading to Petyr’s bedroom. She needed to see if he was alright. 

If something had happened to him… No, she didn’t want to think about it.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw a light coming from underneath his bedroom door. Petyr. She almost started running, her hand pressing down on her abdomen harder to try and relieve the pain.

She didn’t knock on the door. She opened it abruptly, hoping any terrible sight appeared before her eyes. _Please, please, please, may he’s alright. Please._

“Sansa?” Petyr furrowed his brow.

He was sitting up in bed, his mobile phone in his hands. The bedside lamp was on. His hair wasn’t disheveled; he looked just like when he’d left her bedroom. Well, no, he looked more tired, Sansa noticed. He probably couldn’t get to sleep so he’d been playing a game on his phone, or reading the news, or something along these lines. Sansa felt stupid.

Her face must show how terrified she’d been because confusion disappeared from his eyes and was replaced by concern.

“Sansa. What’s wrong?” He climbed out of the bed and walked towards her. He’d changed his clothes. Now he was wearing a pair of dark grey pajamas. The color matched his eyes and his temples. 

She flinched when he touched her shoulders.

“Sansa,” his tone sound softer this time. He watched her face for several seconds, and then, his eyes traveled her body. Sansa knew he was looking for injuries, but she couldn’t help but shiver. His gaze on her affected her more than she wanted to admit.

Petyr breathed out; he looked relief. His hand cupped her cheek and he met her eyes.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Explain.”

Sansa turned her head, and he lowered his arm and stepped back, as if wanting to give her some space. Don’t. Don’t pull away, Sansa wanted to ask him. Instead she said:

“I don’t know if I’m a sleepwalker and had a hallucination or if I was awake and had a vision.”

Petyr opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Sansa stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. She felt him tense; he held still and didn’t wrap his arms around her. But he was real; he was alive. Sansa let out a sob, part of her relieved and part of her still shocked by her vision or hallucination.

“Please, I can’t,” she sobbed pressing her face against his chest. “I can’t tell you what I saw. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

“Shhh.” He finally hugged her back, and Sansa breathed in his scent, the scent of mint and something else she couldn't recognize and that made it unique, and for a moment, she felt at home. “Shhh, sweetling. It’s alright. I won’t ask you to say anything else tonight. Relax, you’re safe.”

Sansa nodded, her face still pressed against his chest. Petyr stroked her hair. For several seconds, her sobs were the only sound in the room, but then Petyr started humming.

Sansa gasped, tears running down her cheeks. His voice was low, he was humming a song just for her. She could feel the soft vibration of his chest, and it was soothing. His hand kept stroking her hair. 

Later, when she calmed down, he led her to his bed.

“Sleep here tonight,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will pick up where this left off. Thanks for reading! :-)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to write longer chapters from now on, but I wanted to finish this scene :-)

**Sansa**

_What?_ Sansa looked at him with surprise. Had he just asked her to sleep in his bed? With him?

Only a few hours before, he’d looked like he wanted to be left alone, like he was tired of their conversation or simply tired. But after escorting her to her bedroom, he’d kissed her on the cheek, and now Sansa was certain that he hadn’t slept a wink.

Why was he acting like this? Was he hiding something from her? Something that was troubling him? Sansa bit her lower lip. No, he must be mentally exhausted right now, she thought. And it was normal, of course it was normal after all they were going through. It wasn’t easy to talk about it. Neither of them understood what was happening, and he didn’t know who they could trust.

 _We need to be able to trust each other,_ Sansa thought lifting her chin.

“Stay,” he murmured, raising his arm to touch her hair. He paused for a moment, as if he felt unsure, and Sansa wondered if he regretted kissing her on the cheek. It seemed that he’d acted on an impulse and that this had been the reason why he’d left her bedroom so quickly. 

The thoughts vanished from her mind when he brushed a lock of her hair with his fingertips. Sansa’s lips parted slightly, and a soft sigh escaped her throat, but if Petyr had noticed, he acted as if he hadn’t, and Sansa was grateful. She still didn’t know how to feel about the way her body reacted to his touch and she would feel mortified if she had to talk about it with him. 

His hand moved to her face, but he didn’t look up to meet her eyes. Slowly, gently, he trailed his fingertips down her cheek, where her tears had rolled down some minutes ago, and Sansa held still, her heart fluttering in her chest, her eyes fixed on his throat. His voice was calm when he said: “When you opened the door, you looked terrified, but also devastated. Whatever happened, it must have been something serious to cause such response.”

“Petyr,” she was going to protest, but he cut her off.

“I know, sweetling. I know you’re not ready to tell me tonight. I know you’ll probably need some days to assimilate what you’ve witnessed, but I want you to understand that I must know. I’m not going to take this lightly. If something has upset you this much, it matters.” His thumb caressed the corner of her mouth. “You’re still upset.”

She looked down at his pajama shirt. She just wanted him to hold her. 

“Stay,” he repeated. “I won’t bring up this topic again. I promise. I just want you to be able to sleep tonight.”

He seemed sincere, and Sansa didn’t want to sleep alone. Not tonight. The image of Lord Baelish and the hooded person flashed through her mind, and she clenched her fists, trying to get rid of it. Petyr was alive. He was there with her. He was alright. 

Lord Baelish, however… She didn’t know if she’d seen a real scene from the past or if it’s been a hallucination, but she was going to find out. Now that she felt more relaxed, she believed that the attack, the puddle, her screams… everything had happened in her mind. Otherwise, Petyr had heard her.

If her vision was real, if Lord Baelish had been stabbed, she would find a way to change the past. 

She would find a way to keep him safe.

“Okay.” She looked Petyr in the eye and managed a smile. His lips curved upwards slightly, but the worried expression on his face didn’t disappeared. He moved away from her to turn off the lights.

They got into the bed. Sansa lay on her back. She could almost hear her heartbeats, but she wasn’t afraid. Petyr wasn’t going to hurt her, and she wanted to be there.

Petyr pulled the blanket over them and lay on his side, facing her. Their bodies were almost brushing. Sansa wanted him to wrap his arm around her, but the words stuck in her throat. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, his breath caressing her neck. “Are you cold?”

“I’m alright, thank you.” She swallowed, grateful that he couldn’t see her.

The silence fell over the house. They couldn’t hear any sounds from the street. What time was it? It must be very late. Petyr would have to get up soon. Sansa knew he needed to rest, but she broke the silence to say in a low voice:

“Were you scared? When Aemon asked you to give him a demonstration.”

“Why are you asking me this?” His voice didn’t sound angry, but cautious.

_Because it’s easier to ask these kinds of questions in the dark._

“You wanted to know what happened tonight. It’s the same,” she said.

“No, it’s not. Learning if I was scared is not relevant. That bit of information won’t give you any clue of what’s going on and definitely it won’t help us to stay safe.”

“But it matters, Petyr.” She swallowed and whispered: “I care.”

She heard him hold his breath, as if her words had taken him aback. Didn’t he know by now how much she cared?

“It’s late,” he said finally. “Let’s try to sleep, alright?”

Sansa sighed. He wasn’t going to answer her question tonight. He wasn’t ready to talk about his experiences during his stay in Aemon’s building. Sansa understood, but she couldn’t help but feel disappointed. She wanted him to feel comfortable talking with her. She guessed they both needed more time. It wasn’t easy to open up. 

“Petyr.”

“Hmm.”

She bit her lower lip. _Tell him._ But the words ( _hold me_ ) didn’t come out of her mouth. She took a deep breath and reached for his hand, hoping her gesture didn’t bother him. He interlaced his fingers with hers almost instantly, and Sansa smiled. His hand holding hers soothed her.

Perhaps next time (if there was a next time) the words wouldn’t stick in her throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :-)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to wish you all a Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year :-)

**Sansa**

 

Sansa didn’t know when she had fallen asleep. Petyr’s hand was so warm, and it was as if the warmth of his body was spreading over hers, soothing her from head to toe. She felt safe sleeping in a foreign bed with him, a man that only a few weeks before was a strange. A man that had found her wandering at night, lost, badly injured.

What had happened that night? She had wondered many times, but she couldn’t help but wonder again as she was lying there, in his bed, with her hand holding his. 

She hoped she would recover her memories eventually. She needed to understand what had happened. They both needed to.

There, in the darkness, she wondered what had happened if she’d seen Petyr under other circumstances. Would she have recognized him? Or had she recognized him because the accident/attack/whatever happened that night had opened the door of her brain that leaded to her past life memories?

She’d read somewhere that traumatic events could bring back memories that remained deeply buried inside the brain. What if her past life memories had been inside her brain since her first day of her present life but had been blocked until that night?

It was strange to realize that their paths could have crossed much earlier, since the day she’d started the university. The Department of Classical Studies was near the Department of Economics. They could have bumped into each other under normal circumstances (Sansa was certain she would remembered if she’d seen him. Petyr was a man that didn’t go unnoticed. Gods, even that night, when she’d been confused and lost, her mind like wrapped in mist, she’d thought he was very handsome just before fainting in his arms).

Warmth spread across her cheeks. She was relieved that despite the circumstances she’d had enough self control not to say it aloud (thought Petyr had told her that she was beautiful the day he’d taken her to his home, she remembered, and she blushed harder). 

She was grateful that the lights were off (she couldn’t see whether Petyr was asleep. He was silent, but perhaps he was lost in thought too). Was he thinking about tonight’s incident, the reason why Sansa had stepped into his bedroom terrified? She was relieved that he hadn’t pressured her to tell him what happened, that he’d understood that she couldn’t, not tonight. She knew she had to tell him, but she didn’t know how she was going to do so.

How could she tell him that she’s seen someone stabbing Lord Baelish? Even thought there was a possibility that it hadn’t happened, that it had been just an illusion, she knew this information was going to affect him.

She brushed her thumb across the back of his hand. I’m going to keep you safe, Petyr. I promise.

 

*

 

The alarm cloak broke the silence.

Her eyes fluttered open, and as her mind left the dreamland, three images mixed with sensations flashed through her mind:

 

_Stone walls._

_A grey feather gently floating in the air._

_A small bottle with a green liquid inside._

 

“Hmmm.” Petyr let go of her hand and stirred in the bed.

The images vanished, leaving a sense of melancholy in her body, and Sansa blinked slowly. What had she just seen?

A faint sunray peaked through the room. It must be early. She looked at the clock placed on his nightstand.

6 o’clock.

“Hmmm. Good morning,” Petyr said, his voice still sleepy. “I’m sorry the alarm clock wake you up.”

She looked at him. His hair was disheveled, the grey of his temples were intermingled with the black. He looked unguarded, and it made her feel a rush of tenderness. She found herself wanting to run her hand through his hair, but she tried to repress it. She bit her lower lip, frustrated with her own emotions, and also frustrated with how ambiguous their relationship was. They haven’t talked about their boundaries, so sometimes she felt as if going into quicksand, trying to interpret both his gestures and his words so she didn’t miscalculate, so she didn’t bother him.

It was frustrating. The whole thing about the past lives was confusing enough. They should talk about their feelings for each other and set their boundaries, she thought.

But not now. They needed to do so in a more neutral place, and his bed definitely wasn’t. She blushed and turned her eyes away from him quickly. 

“Don’t worry,” she said trying to speak in a normal voice. “I should get up too. This is your bedroom. You’ll need some privacy to get ready for work.”

He stretched out his hand, and she jumped slightly when she felt his knuckles brushing against her cheek. She looked him in the eye, and he smiled softly.

“It’s okay, Sansa. You can stay here a few hours more. It’s still very early. I’ll change in my bathroom.”

He seemed to love touching her face, but every time he did, Sansa found it harder to keep her emotions under control.

“No,” she said sitting up. “It’s alright. Truly.” She looked at him again and managed a smile. I’ll go to my bedroom. I hope you have a good day at work.” She paused and resisted the urge to avert her gaze. She took a deep breath and continued: “I… I want to thank you for letting me stay here tonight, Petyr. Seriously. I don’t think I had been able to sleep if I had gone back to my bedroom.”

“You’re welcome.” He leaned on the elbow and watched her face. “I hope you didn’t have any nightmares.”

She thought of the three strange images that had appeared in her mind. She hadn’t had the feeling that they were fragments of a nightmare and she couldn’t remember anything else.

“I didn’t,” she replied, and she wondered if she should tell him about those images.

“I’m glad.” He gave her a soft smile and sat up. 

_Later_ , she decided.

 

*

 

As soon as Sansa got into her own bed, she fell asleep again. She didn’t hear Petyr left. When she woke up again, the sunlight illuminated the room.

She had breakfast with Ms Elliot. Sansa was spreading marmalade onto her toasted bread when the nurse spoke:

“I hope I’m not intruding but earlier in the morning I went to your bedroom to check on you and you weren’t.”

Sansa stopped spreading the marmalade and lifted her eyes to met hers. She couldn’t help by feel annoyed by her words. It wasn’t her business if Sansa spent the night with Petyr.

But her irritation disappeared when she saw that there was a worried look in Ms Elliot’s. She wasn’t a meddler. She was genuinely concerned.

_Why?_

“I had a nightmare tonight and Petyr let me stay in his bedroom,” Sansa said watching the nurse’s face. Why she didn’t look relieved?

The nurse averted her eyes.

“Honey, he’s not who you think.”

What?

“What do you mean?”

Ms Elliot kept her eyes fixed on her plate.

“You shouldn’t be here. It’s dangerous. You don't belong to this world.”

Sansa knit her brow, confused.

“What world?”

Ms Elliot sighed and looked at her again.

“Aemon is a scientist. I’ve been working with him for years, and his career has always been driving by an idea that looked like a pipe-dream when he was a student, an idea that became an obsession when he got his degree and began investing all his money in proving himself right.”

“What… what are you talking about?” Sansa’s heart pounded harder in her chest. Did it mean that Ms Elliot also knew about Petyr’s abilities? Petyr hadn’t mentioned it. Sansa had assumed that only Aemon knew, but it made sense that some members of his team knew. Aemon probably needed to delegate responsibilities to his employees if he wanted his business to succeed. 

Was that the reason why Ms Elliot was concerned? She thought that Sansa didn’t have any supernatural abilities. The nurse must believe that Sansa was unaware of Petyr’s abilities.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you anything else,” Ms Elliot went on. “I just wanted to warn you that you shouldn’t get close to Petyr. You should leave as soon as you recover and forget him. It’s the best for you... and for him.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Sansa**

 

Ms Elliot didn’t add anything else, and Sansa knew it was pointless to ask her any questions. There was a flicker in the nurse’s eyes that Sansa recognized immediately: fear. Ms Elliot was scared. But why? Or whom?

They finished their breakfast in silence, and then Ms Elliot stood up and began clearing the table.

“If you don’t need me, I’ll be in my bedroom until lunch,” the nurse said without looking her in the eye.

Sansa rose to her feet, feeling a little hurt by the sharp tone of her voice. She knew they weren’t friends, that Ms Elliot was just taking care of her because it was her, but her rejection hurt all the same. Was Ms Elliot going to avoid her as much as possible from now on?

Sansa swallowed.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “I’ll be in my bedroom too.”

Ms Elliot didn’t reply and continued cleaning the table, as if she hadn’t heard her, but her body was hunched over, almost as if trying to shield herself from Sansa’s attempts to find the truth.

_Why can’t you confide in me?_ Sansa thought before leaving.

 

*

She spent the morning in her bedroom. The only time she exchanged a few words with another human being was when Ms Andeer arrived and when she left. The woman was nice to her; she asked Sansa how she was doing and wished her a speedy recovery.

After their conversation, Sansa went back to her bedroom, but she could hear Ms Andeer singing as she worked. The woman had a beautiful voice, and listening to her cheered Sansa up. 

When Ms Andeer left, silence fell over the house again, but this time it was more unbearable. As the minutes passed, Sansa felt more and more uneasy. There was something oppressive in the air. She paced around the room and glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Why didn’t time go by faster? Finally she sat in bed and wrapped her arms around her legs. She breathed in and out slowly, but she didn’t feel any better.

At noon, she walked towards the kitchen. Ms Elliot was there already. Sansa looked at the food on the table: a tray of mini sandwiches and two bowls of tomato soup. Then she glanced up at Ms Ellliot, and the nurse looked away from her. It looked like the situation was going to be more uncomfortable than during breakfast. Sansa remained still, not knowing what to do. She didn’t think she could bear that silence any longer. She felt tempted to grab a sandwich and go back to her bedroom, but then, Ms Elliot spoke, her voice barely audible:

“I’m sorry I was rude at breakfast.”

Sansa looked at her again and this time, the nurse held her gaze.

“This isn’t easy,” she went on. “I would like to tell you what’s going on, but I can. Just… just follow my advice. Focus on your recovery, leave this house and don’t see Petyr again. Let this become a distant memory.”

“I cannot do that,” Sansa replied.

A sad smile flickered across Ms Elliot’s face.

“Then I won’t be able to prevent the upcoming events from happening.”

Sansa furrowed her brow. What did she mean? What events was she talking about? She opened her mouth to ask, but the nurse shook her head and grabbed a bowl of soup.

“I’ll eat this in my bedroom.” She said and began walking towards the door. “I’m sorry, Sansa,” she added when she passed by her side, and Sansa stood there, still trying to understand her enigmatic words. 

 

* 

 

Sansa was sitting in bed, reading a mystery novel, when she heard the sound of keys in the front door. 

_Petyr._

She set the book on her nightstand and rose to her feet, breathing a sigh of relief. The last three hours had felt like an eternity. She stepped out of her bedroom. Her feet seemed to move of its own accord. Sansa slowed down when she realized she was almost running.

Petyr was still in the hall, hanging his coat on the hatstand, when she found him. Sansa stopped abruptly, and their eyes met. He dropped his arms, and his body tensed right away.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, and his voice sounded like a growl. Judging by the look on his face, he seemed to believe there was an attacker in the house.

Sansa felt guilty and hurried to answer: 

“Nothing.”

His body relaxed when he understood there was no imminent threat. He tilted his head and watched her face for several seconds. Sansa shifted her weight from one foot to another as she held his gaze.

“You’re lying,” he said softly.

She let out her breath.

“I just feel trapped between these walls,” she replied, and her heart began beating faster (she didn’t know if it was because she was consciously omitting part of the truth or because she was desperate to get out of this house and see the sky above her head, if only for a little while). “Please, let’s take a walk. I need it.”

He kept watching her face, but this time, Sansa couldn’t read him.

“You’re not well enough,” he muttered finally.

“Yes, I am,” she protested. “My injury is healing, and I feel stronger. It’s time I start talking short walks. It will help me recover faster. Please. Spending all the time indoors is affecting my mood.”

To her relief, he nodded.

“Alright. Put on your cloak. We’ll go to the King’s Park.”

Sansa let out her breath, her lips curving upwards.

“Thank you. I’ll come back right away. Just give me a few seconds,” she said turning away.

“Don’t run. I’ll be right here when you come.” She heard him say as she walked away, and his words made her feel warm inside, though she kept walking and didn’t look back.

 

*

 

She gave him a bright smile when she came back. She was genuinely excited to go to the park with Petyr. She was going to enjoy her walk with him and wouldn’t think about Ms Elliot’s words.

Her smile caught him off guard. He tried to smile back, but the corners of his mouth only curved upwards slightly. There was a somber expression in his eyes. A feeling of guilt washed over her. Perhaps he was tired or stressed and didn’t feel like leaving again.

“If you prefer to stay at home, I’d understand,” she said quietly.

“No, it’s alright.” His eyes softened, and he managed a more convincing smile. “Talking a walk will be good for both of us,” he added as he grabbed his cloak from the hatstand and put it on. Then he looked at her again and offered her his hand, and it seemed almost as if he were apologizing for his previous lack of enthusiasm.

Sansa came closer to him, still wondering if she’d done the right thing asking him to take a walk with her. She felt as if she were imposing. 

His fingers closed around her hand when she took his; his grip loose, as if he wanted her to know that she could let go of his hand whenever she decided.

Sansa took a deep breath when she crossed the threshold. Petyr closed the door behind her and put the keys in the lock, her other hand still holding hers. Sansa looked around. The sky was cloudy, but she didn’t mind. She liked cloudy days, and she was so happy to be outdoor finally.

Petyr put the keys in his pocket again and turned to her. His eyes lit up when he watched her face, radiant, and she felt the urge to wrap her arms around him.

“Shall we?” she asked instead.

He licked his lips before answering:

“Yes.”

Later, when he opened the car door, she let go of his hand.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome.” He stood there as she got in the car. It took her a bit longer to sit in the front seat than in a chair or in the sofa because the space was narrower, but she didn’t feel any pang in her stomach. When she finally rested her back against the seat, Petyr leaned out and asked: “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” She replied giving him a reassuring smile. It felt good to see that he cared. It made her feel special, she couldn’t deny it. You shouldn’t get close to him, Ms Elliot’s words sounded in her mind. Sansa pursed her lips, annoyed with herself. She’d told herself that she wasn’t going to think about what happened this morning, but she was breaking her word.

Petyr furrowed his brow, misinterpreting the look on her face.

“Are you in pain? he asked.

“No, no. I’m alright. I was just deep in thought.”

He nodded as if he’d understood what she meant. Then, he closed her door and walked to the driver’s door. Sansa watched him through the windscreen, wondering what he’d have understood exactly.

They didn’t speak again until the car left the neighborhood. Then, Petyr asked:

“Did something happen with Ms Andeer?”

Sansa turned to him, confused.

“No. Why do you ask?”

“Something happened while I was at the university,” he answered calmly, his eyes fixed on the road. “Something that is making you feel sad and worried.”

She turned her eyes away from him.

“Nothing happened.”

“Sansa, don’t lie to me.”

She swallowed. Should she tell him? They were together in this. If they started hiding information from each other, things could get even more complicated. She looked down at her lap.

“It’s something Ms Elliot told me,” she confessed.

“Ms Elliot?” His tone sounded calm still, but out of the corner of her eye she saw him tense. “What did she tell you?”

“That I should leave your house when I recover and shouldn’t see you again.” She omitted that the nurse had also warned her that she shouldn’t get close to him, and added: “What did she mean? Does she know about your abilities?”

He didn’t answer right away. He looked reticent.

“Petyr,” she turned to him, but he kept his eyes fixed on the road. “You must tell me the truth.”

She saw him swallow. 

“You can trust me,” she added lowering her voice and clasped her hands on her lap. _Please_ , she added in her mind.

A faint sigh escaped his throat.

“Yes,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. He swallowed again, and his jaw tightened. “His entire team knows about my abilities.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish you all a Happy New Year! :-) Also, I hope this fandom continues active for many years to come and that people keep creating and enjoying all kinds of fanworks (fanfics, fanvids, moodboards, etc) :-)
> 
> Speaking of fanvids, before writing this chapter I watched some Petyr/Sansa modern au fanvids on youtube and I found one I had never seen before: sansa + petyr (au) by enchantiqs. I loved it, it's so mesmerizing.


	16. Chapter 16

**Sansa**

His entire team. Sansa repeated the words in her mind, but it took her several seconds to understand what they implied. Her eyes traveled over his face as she tried to put her thoughts in order.

“How many people?” she muttered finally.

“Sixteen, Aemon included,” he answered through clenched teeth.

It was clear that he didn’t want to talk about it, but Sansa needed to know. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know this isn’t easy for you, but everything you tell me might be useful to understand what’s going on. Perhaps one of those people knows more than you think.” She paused, not daring to say her hypothesis out loud.

But Petyr guessed what she was thinking.

“You think that one of them could be involved in your attack.”

“It’s a possibility,” she replied. A terrible and twisted possibility. Just thinking of it (that one of the members of his team, someone who was supposed to save lives, might have almost killed her) made her chest tighten. If this was true, they could have tried again while she was unconscious, laying in that hospital bed, and she would have never left that place. She wouldn’t have felt the sun’s rays on her skin again; she wouldn’t have seen her loved ones again. Her parents, her siblings, her friends. An intense feeling of longing took her breath away. She missed them so much. She would like them to be here; she would like to tell them what had happened to her.

 

She’d talked with her parents and with her friend Jeyne by phone a few days ago, and it has been so hard not to tell them. Sansa had had to pretend that everything was fine, that she was just busy with her studies. Hearing their voices had been comforting, and she knew that she could keep in touch with them by email and by phone until she and Petyr found out what had happened that night and if someone was trying to hurt them. But part of her would have liked to tell her parents and Jeyne everything (her visions, that she’d almost died in the university and that Petyr had saved her, that she knew he’d been raised with her mom… If Petyr gave her permission, Sansa would even like to tell them about his abilities, but she was almost certain that this would never happen. Petyr would never agree to tell his secret unless it was absolutely necessary. It had took him a great effort to tell Sansa and she was certain he would have never done so if she hadn’t told him about her visions first.)

It was hard to give your trust; there was always a risk, there was always the possibility that people used it against you. Sansa couldn’t blame Petyr for being cautious; she was cautious too, especially after that night. Though she couldn’t help but wish they trusted each other completely. Petyr was the only one she could talk with about her visions. And you’ve felt a connection with him since you first laid eyes on him, since he got out of the car that night and asked you if you needed some help, a voice in her mind added, and she knew it was true. It was more than that though: she knew deep down that they’d had a strong connection in their past life, although she had only seen some fragments. The last memory she had from her past life was the moment when Lord Baelish had visited her in her chambers, after she lied to the Lords of the Vale to save his life. He’d saved her life before, pushing Lysa through the moon door. Sansa wished she’d been able to get into his mind during that vision, to see why he’d saved her life. Had it been a selfless act? What had he thought when he’d caught Lysa grabbing Sansa’s neck and forcing her to look down at the enormous hole that leaded to the rocky ground, thousands of feet below. Had his mask slipped when he’d understood that Lysa was about to kill her? Had Littlefinger vanished for those brief moments, letting Petyr take the control? 

Sansa didn’t have the answers, but perhaps, if she had more visions about their past life, she could learn more. She could even get to see the whole picture, and the prospect was exciting and scaring at the same time. Sansa wanted to know the truth, but she was aware that perhaps she didn’t like it. She just hoped she never regretted trying to find out the truth. Sometimes the truth was painful and people wished they had remained oblivious. Sansa hoped this didn’t happen to her.

Petyr glanced at her quickly before looking at the road again. Sansa knew he was waiting for her to elaborate further. She took a deep breath.

“I have no memories of what happened that night before you found me,” she said. “But if it’s true that someone attacked me, perhaps the attack is connected to some events from my past life. Perhaps I did something terrible to someone and they are looking for revenge.”

“You cannot have done anything terrible.” There was no hesitation in his voice.

“How do you know? You have never met the Sansa from the past. Perhaps she became an awful person.”

“That’s impossible.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because the personality traits are the same in every past life,” he answered calmly, his eyes still fixed on the road. “You’re right: I don’t know the Sansa from the past, but I know you, and you have a kind heart. You would never do something terrible to anyone.”

“Where have you read that the personality traits are the same in every past life?”

“I don’t remember. I probably heard it from one of my philosophy teachers when they tell us about the transmigration,” he said in a casual tone.

She wanted to believe him, but his explanation didn’t sound very convincing.

“You’ve just made up it to try and appease me.”

“No. I’m saying the truth,” he replied in a reassuring tone.

“Okay, even if you’re right, there’s still the possibility that I became an awful person. The environment affects the personality. We don’t know what events the Sansa from the past had to face throughout her life. We just know fragments of her life.” She hadn’t finished saying it when the car turned to the left and the first trees came to view. They had lost their leaves. As the car came closer, Sansa turned her head and looked out of the window. Some branches looked like claws trying to grab the grey sky, and they shook every time the wind blew. It reminded her of a movie she’d watched a few years ago. A movie about a girl that got lost in a forest. She turned her eyes away from the branches. The park looked empty. There was no one sitting on the benches, or walking their dogs, or working out. It was soon, Sansa thought. Probably in a couple of hours or so, it would be filled with people. 

“Do you think one of the members of Aemon’s team could have been in your past life?” Petyr spoke after a while, and this time his tone sounded hesitant.

Sansa turned to him.

“I hope not, but we should consider all the possibilities.”

He nodded, but he didn’t say anything. Sansa wondered how well he knew them and if there was someone among them that he appreciated. He had only mentioned Aemon in their previous conversations, but Sansa still didn’t know what kind of relationship they had. Petyr was grateful that he’d saved his life, but he didn’t want to tell him about her visions. Perhaps this was the best decision, she thought. If a member of his team had tried to kill her, it would be too risky to tell Aemon. Even if Aemon pretended that everything was fine, the guilty could suspect, and Aemon could be in danger. Or he could reveal some information by accident. No, it was best to wait, just as they had planned.

Soon Petyr found a place to park the car, near the pond. The water lilies were floating in the water, but there were no ducks, no swans. They got out of the car in silence. It was cold. Petyr adjusted his coat and put on his gloves. His body shook slightly, and it didn’t go unnoticed. As she watched him, Sansa wished she’d brought a scarf or a shawl so she could give it to him. Petyr lifted his gaze to meet hers.

“How are you feeling?”

She knew he was referring to her physical health so she answered:

“I’m feeling well. I’m not tired nor am I in pain. This has been a good decision, Petyr. trust me.”

“Alright.” He came closer and offered her his arm. “But if at some point you start feeling unwell, let me know and we’ll go back to the car. If this goes well, we can take longer walks gradually, but there’s no need to rush things. I don’t want you to suffer a setback.” He’d spoken in a distant tone, but Sansa knew better. There was concern hidden in his voice. 

“Okay,” she said interlacing her arm with his and giving him a reassuring smile. Petyr seemed surprised that she was smiling to him. Had he thought that she would be annoyed by the conditions he’d set? His conditions were reasonable. Sansa wasn’t going to ignore the signs from her body. If she started feeling unwell, she would tell him.

The began walking along a stone pathway, their arms interlaced. A rush of wind blew through the trees, fluttering their hair and coats. Sansa leaned closer, not because she needed to lean on his arm but because she hoped she could transfer part of her heat to him. Then she turned to Petyr. His hair was so messy now (she guessed hers was too), but she liked it. He looked wild and sexy. Once more, Sansa thought of that movie, the movie about a girl that got lost in a forest. In the movie, the girl had run into a werewolf, though at first she thought he was a man. Sansa still remembered the scene where they’d met, the hunger in his eyes, the corner of his mouth upwards in a sly expression. It had shocked Sansa that the protagonist hadn’t looked afraid. The girl had lifted her chin and said:

_“I know what you want.”_

_“Do you?” He’d growled, his eyes darkening even more._

Sansa listened to those lines of dialogue so clearly that it was almost as if she were watching the scene. But something was wrong. She shuddered.

Those were the lines of dialogue from the movie, but the voices she’d heard weren’t the actor’s voices. She’d heard her voice and Petyr’s. 

“Are you alright?” Petyr’s voice startled her. This time she hadn’t heard it in her mind.

She turned to him and tried to keep her voice steady:

“Yes, I was just thinking.”

“What you were thinking?”

“I was thinking of a movie,” she answered.

He raised his eyebrow.

“A movie?”

“Yes, these trees reminded me of it. They look like claws.”

Petyr looked surprised.

“Was it a horror movie?”

“Why do you look so surprise?” she asked him, a smile tugging at her lips.

“You don’t seem like the kind of person who enjoys horror movies,” he said.

“Oh, is there a type, Petyr?” she asked in a playful tone and was glad to see his eyes shine with amusement. This was everything she wanted right now: that the concern disappeared from his face; that he could forget his problems for a while.

“Fine, you’re right, sweetling. Those are just stereotypes. But you haven’t answered my question. Was it a horror movie?”

“Honestly I don’t know. There was a girl and a werewolf, and an ominous forest.”

“Did the werewolf chase the girl?” he asked then. Sansa guessed that he was trying to figure whether it was a horror movie, but it was curious he’d chosen to ask this.

“Yes,” she answered. “He’d felt her before laying his eyes on hers. The movie doesn’t explain how: perhaps he could smell her or perhaps he could hear her footsteps. There’s also the possibility that they were connected somehow. The truth was that he followed her track.”

“And what happened when he found her?” he asked quietly.

“He told her that the forest was his and that she’d gone into it without his permission, that she’d broken The Rule and therefore, she had to pay the price.”

A silence followed her words. Sansa could tell that she had all his attention now. She could feel it in the way he was holding her arm, in the way his head was tilted to one side, even in the way he was breathing. He’d become intrigued by her story.

“What did he did to her?” he finally muttered.

“He told her that she had to live with him in his mansion until his rose bushes were in full bloom.”

“And did she accept?”

“She had no other option if she wanted to go back home someday. The werewolf promised her that he would never force her to do anything and that she would be safe with him.”

“So she decided to stay with him.”

“Yes.”

“And what happened next?”

“She started developing feelings for him.”

“And what about him?” His voice sounded husky.

“It wasn’t clear. The movie was told from the girl’s point of view. The audience didn’t get into his head.”

“Such a shame,” he muttered. “I’d like to know.”

“Me too.” Sansa glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, look, there’s a kite’s seller stand. When I was a child I had a kite. It was white and had the picture of a wolf. I loved flying it.”

Petyr smiled softly and tilted his head towards the kite’s seller stand.

“I think today is a good day to fly a kite.”

“Oh, I wasn’t suggesting to buy a kite,” she said quickly. “It was just a memory I felt like sharing, that's all.”

He smiled again.

“I know. But I feel like flying a kite. It will be fun.”

Sansa returned his smile feeling warm inside. His gesture was sweet.

When they stopped in front of the stand, he asked her to pick one. There were a wide variety of kites, and the colors were so bright that Sansa wondered how they hadn’t seen the stand sooner. Most of them were cartoon kites. Her eyes settled on one that showed the main characters from one of her favorite shows as a kid: four friends and a brown dog with black spots and a blue collar that solved mysteries.

“I’d like that one,” she said pointing at it.

Petyr followed the direction of her gaze and smiled.

“A classic,” he commented. “I still have fond memories of this show. I watched it on Sunday mornings while having breakfast. I loved it.”

“Oh, really? I loved it too!”

“Then it’s set. We’d like this one, please,” he told the seller.

They walked towards an open area. Petyr held up the kite by the bridle and turned to Sansa.

“Ready?”

She nodded. 

“One, two, three.” Petyr let out some line.

The kite began flying. Petyr looked at Sansa again and they both exchanged a smile. She hadn’t expected them to be flying a kite in a park but here they were.

Suddenly a gust of wind hit the kite hard, and the line slipped from his hands.

“Fuck.” Petyr tried to grab it again without success. The kite was propelled to the right.

“Stay here, I’ll try to catch it,” Petyr told her before running behind the kite.

Sansa thought he wouldn’t manage it for the kite was several feet above them and it continued flying up. Petyr was more and more far away from her; his silhouette was more and more small, and Sansa thought she would lose sight of him. However, the wind stopped blowing suddenly, and she saw the kite fall onto a rose bushes and end up trapped among their branches. It was likely that the thorns had pierced it. Sansa held her breath when she saw Petyr leaning towards the branches. She preferred him to let the kite there; it wasn't worth it. Sansa didn’t want him to get pricked with a thorn. She wanted to tell him, but she know he wouldn't hear her from that distance. 

Several seconds later, Petyr had managed to pull out the kite and was walking towards her. 

“Are you alright?” she asked him when he came closer.

“Yes, but I’m afraid the thorns have teared it.”

“Don’t worry, it’s alright.” She paused when she glanced at the right leg of his trousers There was a small rip at the bottom part. “Oh, they have teared your trousers too. I shall sew it up.”

Petyr looked down to his trousers. He didn’t seem annoyed.

“It’s alright, Sansa. You don’t have to do it.”

“I want to. I’m very good at it. I’ve taken classes. You’ll see, the new seams won’t be visible.”

Petyr lifted his gaze again and watched her face. Something flickered in his eyes. Was he touched by her offer? Sansa didn't know. Slowly his lips curled into a small smile.

“Alright. Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cartoon kite was a reference to Scooby-Doo.
> 
> The lines of dialogue "I know what you want." "Do you?" are taken from Game of Thrones 4x08.


End file.
